The Deceived Ones
by NolifeSR
Summary: She kept to herself, deceiving others that she was just a boy who survives in the cruel life of Franklin County. She dressed, walked and talked if necessary like a boy so that she had a better chance to survive the very hell she lived in. Life made it difficult when she befriended Jack Bondurant and made it impossible to breathe when she met his older brother, Forrest. Forrest/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 ** _Welcome to the Jungle_**

 **A/N This was something I had written a long time ago and I thought that it was time to publish it! Tom Hardy I would say it honestly one of my favorite actors. So I hope you will enjoy this story as I try to keep updating it.**

She was a boy. At least everyone thought so. Never in her life has she worn one of them beauty dresses, the idea was foreign to her. Florence always wore her brothers shirts and some of their old-worn trousers. Her large breasts were always tucked in underneath a very tight shirt, surprisingly hiding them well. Her brown greasy hair was always tied up and hidden underneath a cap, never once had she wore it down. Florence preferred to look like a boy anyways. She didn't understand why woman were so desperate to please men, to look so pretty and to dress impressively for them. To her men are vile creatures. And they will always remain as such.

Florence hid well from others, she was constantly working hard for her family and thankfully her daddy and her brothers always did the talking for her. The people of Franklin County thought that she was a mute since she never once had talked to any of them. She was happy to be kept to herself and having no ones attention.

She was drifting away deeply into her thoughts as she was carrying wood to her cabin home. Her father was walking towards her with a glass of lemonade. He had that soft smile, the smile that he always gave to her mother before she passed away. "Baby girl, ya' workin' to hard for ya' own good. Sometimes I think ya' work harder than ya' idiot brothers," he said jokingly as he handed her the glass. She smiled down, looking at the bottom of the glass as she drank up that cool lemonade.

Her father looked down on his hands, still trying to wipe the dark oils on his pants.

Florence's dark eyes were watching her father as he was doing so, she put down the glass cup and then quietly asked him, "Been working on the tractor again, Pop?" He grabs the cup away from her hands and nods knowingly.

"I've been," he agreed. The two then started walking towards their wooden home.

Florence left the wood outside next to their house, sweat was pouring from all sides of her head to all sides of her body. She rolled up her dirt smeared sleeves, passing her elbows. Her father then suggested, "Why don't you cool down at the pond? Try to bring back a few of them fishes."

"Alright. See ya' in a few, Pop," she said distractedly. He smiled appreciably and then handed her fishing sticks and a small pistol. Her legs jumbled through the lively forest, breaking branches as she stepped on them and kicking rocks to the side. She observed the pond cautiously hoping that no one would come, she stepped quietly on the grass walking to the edge of the pond. Florence sat down on an old wooden dock and set her things onto the side.

The day was hot but cooled down when it came closer to the afternoon. An hour passed by and she only caught one fish, she didn't mind of course, luckily she was a patient woman. She set her feet into the warm water as she happily whistled to a soft tune.

Until something-or someone distracted her.

He coughed behind her and she jumped up looking at him. "I've never seen ya' here before," he said kindly. She blinked and hesitated while she was observing his young handsome face. She has seen him with a couple of other boys at the shops or at the apple farms. This boy had curly brown hair and overalls, his face was dirty and still you could see his light freckles across his face.

Her neck craned her head downwards, thinking how to communicate with this boy. She replied gruffly hoping she sounded somewhat like a boy, "I come 'ere sometimes."

He smiled at her response as held his fishing supplies in one hand and held out the other. "My name's Jack Bondurant. The youngest of the Bondurant brothers."

Jack waited for her to shake his hand. Her hat was covering her face throughout the conversation, hoping that it would ward him off. Florence clasps her hands towards his into a firm handshake. "Name's 'Rence. The youngest of the Whyte brothers."

She looked at him just has his face tries to recover from a surprise. He stuttered, "You-you're part of the Whyte family? Well, I'll be damned. I didn't know ya' was the youngest out of ya' three oldest brothers. I always thought Clement was the youngest. I didn't even know your pop had a fourth son."

An awkward taste filled her hot throat. And she shrugged it off. "I don't go out much. I like to stay behind an' work." Her small, rough calloused hands began to scratch her stiff neck. "Not much knows about me."

He chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the dock. He motioned for her to sit down next to him. "You're weird. I think we're gonna be great friends, Rence. Ya' know you 'mind me of my older brother Forrest. Don' go out too much, he prefers working all day."

She just hymned in response. She took out her fishing pole once more and he was talking once more, "My friend Cricket'll be coming real soon. He love to fish em' small trouts. He's an awkward fella himself, but who isn't these days."

Florence only agreed peacefully in response. It'll be an odd relationship between the three adolescents, but for some odd reason she had a good feeling about their relationship. What's the worst that could go wrong? She was tired of being cooped up in her home with her family of men.

 _ **A few weeks later...**_

"Rence, you never told me that you were a straight shooter?!" Cricket yells out excitedly. They couldn't contain their excitement when she used her bow and arrow to shoot a large turkey that could feed a family of six. "I've haven't seen anyone shoot like that 'cept for the professionals!" They were in the meadows in which the turkeys would wobble away, being an easy shot. It took some time to hunt one since they were trained to be scared of any type of noise.

Jack couldn't help but to agree. He had honestly never seen someone use archery as a hunting skill before. Of course, he use to hear stories from his great gran-pappy about the Native Indians using those tools to hunt game. Jacks only seen people use their rifles and hunting knives to kill their food. "We'll be eating real nice tonight. Ain't that right Rence?" Jack added gratefully. He patted her on the back praising her for her useful skill.

Florence's mind panicked much, her heart racing. How could she say no? She knew for a fact that Jack and Cricket would be fighting for her to come and eat dinner at the Bondurants residence. There was always a reason why she dressed like a boy. Everyone knew that Franklin County was not a safe place for anyone, especially for a woman. Her Pop always told her that it was safer to be a boy. Growing up, her father and her brothers taught her everything from archery to shooting many types of guns. They even taught her how to maneuver knives in fights, they taught her how to fight anyone at any size. Not only she grew up with her own family, her cousins from her mothers side preformed acrobatic shows for the Grizzly Brothers Circus and taught her different moves on how to get from point A to point B in the fastest and in the slyest ways. That's all she ever did every summer was be with her cousins, that is until they were moved to Europe last year.

She was lucky enough to be ignored by others, but she can't have the attention of another family. She had to stammer out an excuse, "We-we'll, I can't. I have to tend the farm and.." She breathed to calm down a bit. "How bout' you take the turk' ?"

Cricket and Jack stood there taken aback. She's never rambled on like that before, maybe this would have been her third sentence this week. Perhaps this is the loudest she has ever talked before. Cricket sat down on a fallen tree as Jack walked towards Florence, hands on his belt and he sniffed. "C'mon, Rence! What kinda' dinner would it be without its hunter who got us our food?! I think it's bout' time you come and see our lil' store and meet my brothers! They're gonna' wonder who hunted this!" He wondered out loud.

 _Which is exactly why I don't wanna go_ , she thought grumpily. Why would anyone want her in their dinner table she was just so-so odd with others. But, their faces told her something entirely different. They really wanted her to be there, not cause she also hunted, but to be there as their friend. Her relationship grew with them in the past few weeks, even though she hadn't said much, but they accepted her without thought. It took her sometime, the boys didn't think she would have answered, but she did anyways, "Alright, les' get going then. I have to be home before eight o'clock."

Jack yelped in triumph along with Cricket. "That's alright. We have dinner at six. C'mon lets get the turkey goin' the faster the better." And that's when the trio started walking towards the Bondurants home.

They finally made it into the small store and made into the small kitchen. Florence took the heavy bird from Jack and asked, "Do you have an ax outside? I need to chop its head and then pluck its feathers." He nodded and showed her the way outside the kitchen doors.

Jack handed her the wooden ax and sheepishly asked her, "Something tells me you know how to cook these turks'. Maybe you can teach us?" He scratches his arm waiting for her hopeful answer.

She had a nice soft chuckle and nodded. She then gestured to the Turkey in her hands and informed Jack and Cricket to listen. "We gotta' pluck the bird then chop its head." They did nothing except follow in her footsteps. Jack began plucking the bird while Florence and Cricket were watching him like a hawk. She then told Jack to chop the head. A little while after that they gutted the bird, taking its tiny organs and waste out of its body. After an hour the bird was already prepared, seasoned and laying on its tray ready to be put into the oven.

Both Jack and Cricket watched Florence placing the turkey in the oven. She sighed happily, "And that's how you turkey, boys." She rested her hands on her hips.

Big mistake.

The boys could've swore that she just looked like a gal in that pose. Her eyes widened, realizing what she was doing. She hurriedly took her hand off of her hips and said something to distract the boys, "Do you have any mashed potatoes? Any gravy? Or something to drink?"

"We have a lot of left over mashed potatoes. Howard made too much, so I suppose we can warm 'em up again. And, uh my brothers and I like to drink shine while we eat." She nodded off handedly.

Dinner finally arrived and the table was set, drinks and the food were waiting for the guest to come and greet. Florence was washing her hands in the back room until she heard new voices coming in the store.

"Smells so _fucking_ good! Is that turkey that I smell?" Said a loud and obnoxious voice. "Damn, lil' brother I didn't know you was a house wife!" Florence guessed that, that would be one of the brothers walking in as he slammed the door wide open.

"I didn't cook it you idiot. My friend Rence made it for us, he hunted down the turkey with one shot of an arrow. Right in the turkeys heart," Jack stated proudly.

"And where is this 'friend', Jack" demanded a smooth, dark and lustful voice. The hardwood floors creak from the weight of the man. Instantly, one would notice that this man came in size and was not to be toyed with.

"He's washing his hands right now, Forrest. He'll be out," Cricket answered for him. Florence closed her eyes nervously and looked at herself once more to check if she looked like a boy. She swallowed in her gut and finally walked outside into the kitchen.

Forrest thought that the boy was the smallest thing he had ever seen. Maybe the same size as Cricket. But from what he has heard from the boys, Rence is a damn good shot and a damn great cook. If mama taught him any manners, she would taught him that they should welcome and thank the cook. He stalked towards Rence, holding out his large, strong hand while the other was in the pocket of his cardigan and greeted gruffly, " 'M name's Forrest Bondurant, this 'ere is the family store and my brother Howard."

"Howdy," Howard said with a wide smile.

Florence shook both of their hands strongly, maintaining firm eye contact with them, trying to look manly as possible. "The name's Rence Whyte," she murmured.

Forrest had to admit that the boy has some balls looking straight in the eye like that. No one ever did that. He had to say though that the boy almost has feminine features, maybe his eyes were fooling him. And lastly, Rence said that he was a Whyte and Whytes were.. well-

"Tough _sons of bitches_ is what your family is boy," Howard hollered loudly as everyone began to take their seats at the table."I didn't know they had a fourth son."

"Rence here stays behind to work at the farm or hunt. Doesn't like to go out much into the market," Jack answered for her as he placed mashed potatoes on everyones plates. "His pop buys our brew though. Thinks it's the best damn drink in the county."

The turkey was being cut by Forrest, whose mouth was watering like a starving mutt. He knew that this boy could cook if he made his mouth water like it did-of course he didn't show it. Slices were handed out by Forrest, easily giving the first pick to Rence then the boys and lastly himself. He took his first bite, relaxing into his seat. The savoring taste made his eyes roll behind his head in extreme content.

" _Holy shit_. This is the best damn turkey I've ever ate," Howard remarked with amazement. It had gotten to the point in where all that was left in Howard's plate was the sweet and sour juices that fell from the turkey as he sucked the bone dry. Forrest couldn't help but agree. The only damn thing he would be able to cook would be coffee, toast and eggs. Enough stability for the day was good enough for him.

After thanking Florence for dinner, Forrest took it upon himself to drive the frail boy home. The drive was a short ten minute ride, in which Florence felt like it was hours. Well, what can she say? She's never been alone with a man, let alone a handsome one. She didn't like looking into his eyes, she didn't like to talk. And Forrest respected that, cause that is how he is. For him life is too short, and so it must be taken seriously and with a clever mind.

When they finally arrived, Forrest bid Florence good-bye and reversed his truck from the driveway.

Something tells Forrest that the boy will be coming more often-with trouble.

Because he knows for a fact Rence isn't who he really is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _ **A Relic Heirloom of the Past**_

 **A/N Hi, guys! Gah, sorry for the late update! More into the story there will be some Spanish words and some Latino history put in here along other things! I admit that this chapter is a bit slow but shows Florence on the type of person she can really be when the situation calls for it. Please don't be offended on the some of the things on here, that's why it's rated M for a reason... And special thanks to my followers here! Please follow and review! I love criticism, ya'll! You should follow me on my tumblr at Somerandumb-writer! I write oneshots there!**

 **Chester-Grey: I will be continuing this story and I'm a sucker for these types of stories as well! Thanks for your lovely comment by the way, it means a lot! And hopefully my future chapters will be as well written as the first chapter! Please enjoy this chapter!**

 **Rasha007: Yo! You do not sound pushy at all! The pushier the better in my case. And I whole-heartedly believe that Lawless is a kickass movie! I love the Bondurant brothers as well, especially Forrest, man. I am glad that you like my story! Enjoy!**

Florence's stale eyes stared at the golden pearl hair pin that was passed down from many generations of her mother's side. Although the idea of marriage and commitment frightens her, she knew deep down that she will never get to use the pin. She felt dishonorable of it and that had saddened into her depths. It was like an invincible hand crushing the very beating of her heart, it was ready to be ripped out of her.

Florence sat on her mismatched quilted bed, going through old things that her mother left her with. As she dug further into the decaying abyss of rusted objects, and dried rose petals, beneath it all she found an old photo. A slow, tremulous sob wheezed from her inflamed throat, and the silent tears fell drop after drop. She tried to control her running nose, smearing the waters on her sleeve. It's been more than some years since the last time she had seen the face of the woman who gave birth to her.

And now she can barely remember her mothers face.

Florence's small thumbs rubbed over the black and white photo, getting rid of the unnecessary grime that was smeared over. If she stared any harder, her eyes would probably burn holes through the photos. Her mother, her _Madre,_ her spirit was perhaps the strongest memory that Florence had of her. And what a shame, she felt that she didn't inherit that. Florence's umber head tilted to a side, observing every detail that her mother portrayed.

Maria Amelie used to walk on this very Earth many years ago. She had shorter and more volumed hair than Florence. Her nose was long and broad and the skin that cover the very skeleton of her frame was tanned with deep pours. The woman was smaller than average height which mattered not since her waxen smile compensated that. She may seem shy, she may seem timid, but Maria was none of the sort. Maria, _bless her heart_ , was a respectful woman who wasn't scandalous, but would run her smart mouth if something and someone bothered her or her family. She was the overprotective mother bear of the family and she had an alpha to help with the cubs. Even the alpha male backed down from his mates roar.

And now, Maria is gone. The only memory of her was the spirit and the children she left behind, more so, her replica, Florence.

But how could anyone say that? Florence felt if anything, she was the exact opposite of her mother. Florence _is_ timid, _is_ shy, she couldn't start a fight even if she wanted to. Hell, that didn't stop her family from training her how to be a damn soldier. Unlike her mother, Florence wasn't petite. She had womanly curves that a man would be pleased to grab them, sure she was pudgy but it didn't really matter to her since she has no one. People saw and thought of her as a ghost, some have seen her and some haven't. The some that saw her or even her family knew that they were different. See, they were a bit tanner than the regular folk that were born and bred there. Maria had the darkest set of brown hair that anyone's seen, her accent a bit different. Here in the County of Franklin, not many persons take too kindly towards people who were a bit- _different_.

Still, that didn't stop her father from marrying the most beautiful woman alive, the one who made him feel alive. He didn't give a _hoot_ or a _holler_ if she was from a different race. The two met in their early teens, married in their early teens and even had kids in their early teens. And no regrets had came since. Florence's father, Ernest Kenneth Whyte was a white man of german decent, he didn't speak the language as his mother and her father before her did. His height was lingering, Ernest's eyes were hazel with specks of orange and yellow surrounding his pupils.

For a man his current age, Ernest was considered healthy and quite the handsome man, his jaw was still a bit squared and a smudge of extra fat had befallen on them. Every older woman, every widower in the small town wanted Ernest to be with them, even the younger dames. He was a hard laborer who wanted best for his family and loved them as best as he could which was his all. He was grateful for the four lives that Maria gave birth to, he was grateful for the life she lived with him even though it wasn't the easiest.

Ernest tried his damned hardest to teach his kids the very best in life. He grew up in a family of soldiers, a family of fighters- a family of survivalists. They were all very educated, very enthusiastic about learning more, to _be_ more. And their knowledge was now passed down to his very children who knew more about surviving and fighting more than anything.

In Florence's memory, her mother wore the many floral dresses that she had going to church every Sunday whose pastor had health issues and yet he conducted. Florence disliked going to a Sunday school it wasn't because she thought it useless, it was because she felt unworthy of setting her foot in their holy cave. She loved running through the mud and forest, she loved wearing pants and loose shirts. She was free, she was happy.

She was Florence.

Leaving her eyes from the photo, tears dried from their pores, Florence sighed and set the photo down back into its dusty box and closed it, putting it back under her squeaky bed. Noticing that her brothers were done taking their nightly baths, Florence's hands grab the warm discolored towel that was hanging in front of the small fireplace. She left her wooden walled room as her legs took her towards the bathroom where the water was already warmed up for her in a white porcelain bathtub.

Florence's sore muscles contracted, moving around to remove her dirty and torn rags from her body. The tight shirt that constricted her breathing was now laying on the humid floors and finally after a long day of running with Jack and Cricket, and working with her manly family, she could conclusively breathe. The unexpected cool air snuck through the cracks of the walls hitting her skin. Goosebumps traveled everywhere, her light brown nipples erected slowly as she shivered a bit. Next, came off her dark ripped trousers and white cotton underwear, leaving them motionless on the floor as if they were her enemy.

She tip-toed into her bathtub, checking if the temperature was right. Being done so, she eased her body, reclining her back onto the bathtub. Florence's arms positioned to the sides of the tub as her body soaks in her tensed frame. At the time that her thoughts flew from her mind, the daydreaming began. She cupped one of her breasts, taking mind on how mountainous they were, they overflowed her small hands. With her eyes closed, she unsurely began to fondle her breasts, wondering in curiosity how would it feel to have a mans strong hands teasing her them or even taking a bite. Bewildered at her own flustered ideations, Florence sidestepped from them and tried continuing to take a normal bath.

Thereafter her bathe, she changed into her flannel sleepwear and then walked down the wooden staircase, finding her family bantering at each other while setting up the table. Aside from finding the pot of potato stew on the iron stove, the aged-stoned fireplace spewed a cackling noise merely burning the bright embers danced from the fiery wood in the air with grace, warming the home.

Her white bearded father rose from his seat to once and for all, serve his family their bowls of soup while his sons helped placing the plate of bread rolls and a pitcher of lemonade for Florence _and_ their pitcher of moonshine. Leaving the sink from washing her hands, she gave a quick peck on her father's cheek in which he returned a chuckle. She sat down next to her oldest brother, Alcide who placed a roll on her plate to accompany her soup with. He gave a small smirk to his little sister in greeting while the second eldest, Clarence filled her glass with lemonade. Florence gave everyone a small and awkward smile, but continued to eat her food anyways.

Further into the supper, the brothers became more rowdier and louder, laughing at each other, _with_ each other. Alcide slapped his knee as he clutched his stomach, snorting a giggle, "Poor ol' Sal always gave ya' a goddamn hard time 'cause you and your stupid ass won't stop disturbing poor Ida Marie."

Clement, the youngest of the brothers took a swig of his shine and grumbled, "Kiss my ass, Al." The two older brothers laughed even harder. At a fine and calm time like these, Florence _really_ takes a good look at her family. Although everyone in town knew they were different and didn't much like different, they all knew and begrudgingly admit that the Whyte brothers were perhaps the most best looking men in town besides the Bondurants.

Many woman wait for the Whyte men to take their reins with their rugged looks and tall, muscly physique. Alcide had black wavy hair, his dark beard trimmed close to his jawline, and he also had expressive hazel eyes. Clarence had curly dirty blond hair and brown eyes that the gals in town melted for. And Clement with his shaggy brown hair, short sideburns, and dark green eyes. Apart from having handsome faces, it didn't help that they were respectful, hardworking men in which the fathers would force their daughters away. And Florence...Well, she was Florence. Unkempt, quite and a bit dull if anyone asked so.

But, everyone knew how they really were. The Whyte's were extremely protective of each other, they would die for each other and kill for each other. They were to be afraid of, no one wanted to be dead at their lethal ends.

The Bondurants _are_ legendary. They were known to be invincible.

The Whytes _are_ nightmares. They were known to be haunting.

And the people who dared to strife with them, didn't come back the same, or didn't come back at all. Suddenly, a large hand took ahold of her upper arm, waking her from her distraction. Her brother Clement furrowed his burly eyebrows and asked, "You alright?" At this, everyone was looking at her.

She retracted her arm as he let go. She nodded and replied, "Guess I'm a bit tired." Her fingers curled, intertwining with one another. Florence looked distractedly out the scratched windows.

"Our girl has been working her behind off," Ernest praised proudly. "She works too hard sometimes." He nudged his beaten grey cup at Clarence to serve him another pitch of shine.

"She ain't a Whyte is she doesn't," smiled Clarence, he grabbed his fathers cup, pouring in the alcohol and then returning it to him. "She fights better than the cowards in town."

Florence blushed slightly at their comments, taking it with pride.

"Where do you go when you're done with your chores anyways, Florence?" Alcide questioned, making himself more comfortable on the splintery chair. "We notice that you leave."

Spluttering she said, "A-a well, you know fishing or-or being at the forest." She stopped her yapping or else they would be even more suspicious. She scratched her head in embarrassment. Florence rose quickly from her seat, the chair made a loud screech, making the boys cringe at the noise. With a large gulp she bid everyone goodnight and went towards her room.

Before shutting her door she hears her brother Clement ask in wonder, "Do you think she has a boy waiting for her?"

"Shut the fuck up, Clem," Alcide growled in exasperation, giving Clement an annoyed look.

* * *

"It's 1932, and the Great Depression _just_ began. Well, not really anyways most people in the states were already poor, life was already depressing as is. The people who've been born without the luxury of money and finery had no idea why people were complaining. They've been butt poor their whole lives, and suddenly the _fucking_ _Great Depression_ made a change?" Angrily spat an old man who was chewing Tobacco. "Most people that had been suffering, were already suffering for their whole lives. My daddy and his daddy before were already fucking poor as shit. Ain't no Great Depression gonna change how things really were if its already been there the whole time."

The man next to him nodded in sympathy. "I hear ya', Horace."

"And now many field jobs been taken by those fucking _Beaners_. Coming out from the other side as if they owned the place," Horace grumbled while he was eyeing the bottom of his empty cup. "I tell ya', Paul since when did us proud Americans let mother fucking colored people coming and take what's ours?"

Florence couldn't help but overhear their conversation and felt a bit in rage. They were so stupid and so ignorant as if they didn't see that everyone was the same. They bleed and they die. She was helping out Jack with the cooking in the kitchen and was angrily cutting the onions. Horace's order was coming up and she was the one making it. She stopped cutting and was looking around if the coast was clear without anyone watching her. Florence spat out the largest and gooiest spit in his food.

 _Served him right_ , she thought smugly. She walked to the idiot and left his food in front of him.

"Thank you, son," Horace said unfolding the napkin and setting it on his lap. _Oh, if he knew that it was a goddamn Beaner who served his food._ He took a good bite of his food, noticing it a weird taste but shrugged it off.

And he ate every bite.

She walked over back towards the counter top, grabbing a towel that was stashed behind it. Florence started to clean the pale blue top, rubbing off the red and brown dried up sauces. It was already closing time and Jack disruptively halted his washing. He turned around towards the oblivious teen picking up the mess and he suggested with such determination, "I'm gonna ask Forrest to take you with us to help make a run with our 'shine. Or to at least help and come watch making it with us."

Florence returned a questionable glance at Jack who seemed dead set on her going with them. She wiped the side of her face with her dirtied hands, feeling that a few pieces of her hair were slicking on the side of her face.

As Jack was going to say something else, a group of five men walked in the store. Florence saw that they were looking for trouble, they were stupid enough to walk into Bondurant territory. At the same time Howard and Forrest walked in looking at the strangers with a cold stone glare. Forrest's hands seem to snake towards the pockets of his beige cardigan and gruffly told Jack, "I think it's best to take the boy home now, Jack."

Jack quickly nodded and pushed Florence towards the entrance of the station, hoping to relive her of the trouble. But, a large hand grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her. When Florence looked up, it was one of the men that were giving a hard time to the Bondurants. The fat man that had his shirt buttoned up in the wrong places cocked his pistol. "If I woulda known better, I'd say you have a girl working around here," he mocked as he gave a pointed look at Florence. She had stopped breathing wondering if they actually noticed.

"Let him be. He got nothing to do with this!" Jack thundered.

"And what are you gonna do about it, you _cocksucking_ hick?" That was about the last straw that Florence and everyone else had. A shot rang out, missing Forrest and Howard by an inch. Florence ducked as the man next to her tried to punch her, she bumped into one of their goons that was behind her. She saw a kitchen ax close to her and grabbed it without hesitation, swiftly slicing the man's hand off of its wrist. Blood gurgled out from its wounds as the man cried out in agony, holding on to his arm. The hand fell off unceremoniously onto the floor. There was a lanky man who was an easy shot, Florence threw the small ax that flew into his spinal flesh making him fall forwards. Howard shot two of them, meaning that there was one more left.

Forrest grabbed him by the collar and shoved him harshly onto the mint green walls. "Who sent you?" He growled, his cigar had not once fell from his mouth as he was fighting.

"A-ain't tellin' you sh-shit," he stammered out. Howard dug his sharp blade into the man's thigh. "Ah! Ah! I can't! I can't alright?! He gon' kill me if he found out I told you!"

"What I have in mind will be far worse," Forrest forewarned. He motioned at his brother to have Florence taken home. "Leave Rence at his abode. Got us some business to take care of."

As both Jack and Florence was as the entrance, Forrest had nodded at her in appreciation of her help.

She hated the pang that her stomach made. _The flutters_.

She was way in too deep with the Bondurants.

And unknowingly, she would only get deeper.

Especially when she knows that Forrest looks at her as if he knew she was hiding something.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _ **If I Were a Boy**_

 **A/N I'm kinda on a roll? Let's hope I'll keep it that way! Please leave reviews, they are wonderful and helpful! Kinda feeling Beyonce's song right now, a bit inspired for this chapter. Enjoy!**

 **Rasha007: Florence will continue to stay true, but the question is to what extent? Muahaha**

His silky brunette mane was sleeked back, his mouth sneering as his plump lips supported the cigar that had a plume of smoke flowing from the ends. His eyes, condescending, and yet his face held a certain _bane_ ful composure. His body wavered the robust muscles that had squeezed the life out of his enemies many occasions before, making it easier for him to kill each time. No air of guilt, but air of resent and vengeance besieged the very essence of himself, including his brothers.

Ending the interrogation, and torturing the man who wouldn't give him answers, Forrest cracked his thick, bloodied fingers to feel some relaxation. His white striped sleeves were folded up neatly and apron he wore, stained by the splatters of blood. Forrest decided to take a breather and left the mostly dead moron in the room. He walked into the bathroom across the hallway and pulled the thin metal string to flicker the lights on.

The walls of the small run-down bathroom were peeling and the mirror that hung above the sink had small black spots surrounding its fractured frame. He turned on the knob on the sink and water began to wash the blood out of his hands, although _truly_ he _can't_ wash the blood out of him. Forrest watched the red fluids going down the drain, he then grabbed the cream tinted towel drying his hands quickly. When his face lifted upwards, he was confronted by his own gaze looking back at him. Forrest rubbed roughly along his jawline, feeling stubble poking back the tips of his fingers. His eyes seemed to always look back with such bitterness. He ignored himself and went back with his brothers that were waiting in front of the interrogation room.

Forrest took off the disgraced apron and threw it into a metal bin to wash it later. He stood straighter as he put on his grey cardigan on. Howard and Jack were glancing at the motionless man in the room and then back at Forrest. Crossing his arms, Jack asked Forrest, "So, what should we do with him?"

Forrest took the cigar out of his mouth, dropping it onto the floor and grunted out a reply, "Return him to his."

Howard was leaning against the wall and suggested, "Why not hand him to the Whytes? Don't they do clean up business?"

"It's _our_ problem not theirs. We gon' do what we usually do."

"Send back a message to show those sons of bitches what happens when they mess with the Bondurants," Howard concluded out loud with a large grin.

Forrest nodded, taking out a pocket watch gazing at the time. It was well into the afternoon, he looked outside seeing the orange and yellow hues of the horizon and the lavender clouds. He informed lowly, "We got us a delivery tonight at RJ's, need'a hurry." He went towards the shed where the freshly made moonshine was at and started to take the boxes into the trunk of his truck. Jack was turning on the truck and Howard sat right next to him as Forrest opened the door to the drivers seat to leave to the bar. The body was stashed in the back, covered by a large piece of burlap cloth and rope tying it all together. During the time of the drive, Forrest squinted his eyes and saw some lights at the end of the road.

And that's when he finally noticed that it was a blockade. Howard and Jack looked as if they were already ready to fight, it wasn't a surprise to them when it happened. Cause it did time to time. They took out their guns and finally pulled their car to a stop. One of the men with a white suite greeted as he waved his pistol, "Evening, gentlemen! My name's Flint and our boss would be most gracious if you can hand out the shine, they would be mighty thankful." A few men chuckled, everyone was in front of an abandoned barn house, waiting for the Bondurants.

Forrest sighed irritatedly, rolling his eyes underneath his hat. He turned to Howard and Jack telling them, "Bring the body out." When they brought the body bag, the men saw blood stains everywhere. Howard harshly pushed the body forward and Forrest kneeled down to uncover the head. He looked up at Flint and asked, "'S this yours?"

"Tha-that's Ray," he gulped down nervously, also seeing that Ray had more than a few teeth missing. Flint's eyes darkened and asked, "Where are the others?"

"Don't remember. Scattered them everywhere." Everyone sucked in their breaths, trying not to show their fear. They easily outnumbered the Bondurants, but even the outnumbered know that they can be defeated by them.

A younger man in the background muttered, "They took out all five as if it was nothing."

"If you don't hand us the shine-" Flint started to threat.

" _What_? What the hell are _you_ gonna do?" Forrest accused as he walked menacingly closer to the shaking man. Jack was cocking his pistol as did Howard, one way or another, they will make it out alive no matter what.

"I guess we'll have to take it by force." That's when a shot rang out.

 _ **E. . . .**_

Her father's small pickup rumbled as they drove through the sleepy town, keeping an eye for an open market on this merging afternoon. Her brothers were working in their family bakery shop that has been open about twenty years. It had been just her and her Pop, buying some necessities for their ongoing business. They stopped at the old market in which supplies at times comes scarce time to time, but kept them going regardless. The vehicle parked to a stop in front, both Florence and Ernest walked into the warm store greeted by the owner, "Welcome back, Mister Whyte! I got just what you needed! The order came through."

Ernest nodded, smiling back at the owner, Alec, and then whispered to his daughter's ear, "Why don't you explore just a bit. Don't stray too far, and please don't get into too much trouble." He left her and went walking towards Alec, the both going through the list of things Ernest bought.

Florence understood what he meant. He didn't want her to blow her cover by any chance to strangers. A few people were in, touching the fruits or vegetables to see if they were suitable enough for the taking. She was looking around, her head turning in different directions and didn't realize that she bumped into someone at the more secluded corner of the store. " _Oh_ , pardon me!" A girl gasped apologetically. When Florence looked up, she saw golden blond hair and a pair of warm brown eyes. The girl was clearly in her late teens almost twenty she estimated, her skin was fair and smooth and she wore a preachers dress that was very traditional and modest.

"You're a Whyte. I saw you coming in with your daddy," She said shyly, but kindly at the same time. She introduced herself, "My name's Bertha Minnix." She gave a small curtsey to Florence while she had a basket resting next to her elbows.

"'M Rence Whyte," Florence grunted boyishly. She made sure that everything was in place, hopefully not giving away that she was a girl. "It was a pleasure, miss. 'Scuse me." She tried to dodge away from Bertha, but sadly she felt a small hand touch her shoulder, stopping Florence, at which the action tensed her.

"Eh, Mister Rence?" She began to ask.

"Yes?"

"Yo-you have a spider on your hat."

"Come again?" Florence panicked as she squinted at Bertha, making sure she heard correctly.

Bertha winced a bit at Florence's tone. She pointed at her hat and reminded her once more, but a little more bluntly, "Yo-you have an eight legged Satan spawned creature on your head, Rence."

Florence yelped as if her head was on hot lava, she violently grabbed her hat and threw it onto the floor. She kept stomping on it, hoping to kill the small cretin. Florence heaved in, looking quite breathless as she was clutching onto her chest. Bertha suddenly gasped, wide eyed. Florence looked confusedly back at her and noticed that her brown hair fell loose into to their long wavy locks.

" _No, no, no_! Please, please don't say anything!" Florence begged rapidly in her normal voice. She put her hair back into a messy bun and slid on her hat. "Do you have any idea what they do to the girls here? Especially _here_?!" She whispered yelled.

Bertha gulped, but nodded. She said with a shaken voice, "A few girls went missin' last week and they were- _they were-_ "

"-I know," Florence replied weakly. She pointed at Bertha then at herself. "That's what happens to girls like us if we're defenseless. At least if I dress and act like a boy, I will have a better chance here."

"I understand." Bertha bit her lip and said, "That's quite an idea."

Florence smiled at her friendliness and she also gave small, awkward curtsey. "My actual name is Florence. Florence Whyte."

"Well, Florence I sure do hope so that we get to meet each other more! I already feel comfortable with you!" She squealed quietly. "Say, where do you live?"

"Eh, about twenty minutes away from the Bondurant Station. There's this small lake in between our places though. It takes me ten minutes to get there. And we have our small bakery called the, _Whyte Bakery_."

"Well, I'll be! Do you know Jack? Jack Bondurant?" Bertha asked excitedly.

"Mhm. We met at the lake. And then he introduced me to Cricket and finally his brothers."

"We're courtin'. Me and Jack, I mean. My daddy still needs to get used to the idea of it." Bertha smiled softly, giving the floor a dreamy gaze. She then looked up at Florence and asked, "Do they _know_ about you?"

"No, but I feel as though Forrest is not as clueless as he seems. I've been hanging around, or helping them out whenever I'm not busy and he's been real astute. I'm guessing you know about their _business_?"

Bertha nodded. "Dangerous. That Forrest man sure is handsome."

Florence ignored her comment."Well, I have this really odd feeling that they're about to find out. I just hope that they don't."

"You look like a young boy. No offense."

"That's what I'm looking for. And non-taken." Florence's father at last beckoned for her that it was time to go. She quickly advised, "I work at the bakery every mornin' or ask my brothers for me. You are welcome at anytime, Bertha."

"Well, thank you! I'll be sure to come!"

"Thank you, for listening. And can we keep this between us?"

"Of course! Now, get going! Your daddy's calling." Both girls waved each other their good-bye's. On the ride back home, Florence had no clue why she told everything to Bertha. Maybe it was the fact that she was deprived of female influences and the fact she never had friend that happened to be a girl. Bertha was so kind and understanding, Florence actually hoped that she would be coming regularly, but as they all say, _don't get your hopes up._ But,for once, Florence will. When they got to their secluded home, the boys closed the shop for the night and everyone had their dinner together resulting in the same way. Bantering. They all bid each other goodnight and went to sleep. The tree branches scratched the windows, in which Florence had a hard time sleeping. It was then decided that she was going to sneak out and just go for a night walk. She put on her clothes quietly and her cap.

She opened her window and climbed down the tree, walking into the night.

While walking through the forest, Florence heard the echo of gunfire, and it was very close. Curiosity took the best of her and when she hid behind the barn, she saw men firing at each other. Some were hiding behind car doors, shooting from behind as some were laying on the dirt road already dead. Her eyes saw a familiar green truck and her eyes widened in realization. Florence searched frantically for a firearm and by luck she found a dead man with a sawed-off shotgun and a pistol in his pocket. She checked if there was still ammunition and saw that there was some.

God, she was scared. But, she wanted to help out the Bondurants.

She hid among the trees, observing her surroundings, she saw that the Bondurants were still running about and a few men trying to sneak up to them, they were an easy, perfect shot. She brought up the shotgun, aiming at a man behind Jack.

The shot hit the mans chest, he crumpled to the floor.

Her next shot hit another man in his stomach. She saw red exploding when the bullet went through. The Bondurants were continuing the fight even if their faces were somewhat confused on who is helping them out.

"Who the fuck is shooting?! Fucking find them!" Shrieked Flint who sadly wasn't dead. Two men were walking her way, idiots if anything. They were an easy shot. And so the closer the got, she shot dead center on their foreheads. Blooded oozed everywhere, shocking her for a bit. Florence's shotgun was empty, she threw it to the side. She saw someone on top of the roof and saw them pointing something at someone. Her legs sprinted to the barn house and she easily climbed to the roof finding the man targeting the Bondurants. She took out the pistol and shot him behind his back. He fell from to roof and landed on the road.

She made it back to land, looking around that there was no one left except for the Bondurants. Florence strides towards them slowly, hoping that they were okay. Her hair was still rolled up into her cap, she had much dust and gore claiming her clothes and face.

Jack was the first to see Florence and was relieved. "Rence?" He saw the pistol in her hand.

She nodded, quavering a bit.

Howard laughed out loud, "Damn, boy. You sure do live up to your family's reputation!"

Forrest lit a new cigar and walked towards Florence. He tried not sound as he was scolding her, but it did anyways. "You shouldn't have come. 'S our problem, you could'a got yourself killed."

 _Couldn't you just be thankful, you stubborn moonshiner?_ She grumbled in her head. But, she awkwardly scratched her neck quietly and nodded in defeat. Florence saw a man who was injured on the ground, pointing his gun to Forrest. She roared, "Watch out!" Florence with all her might pushed Forrest to the ground as a bullet flew from the gun.

A thud was all but heard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 ** _Hello, it's me_**

 **A/N So, this chapter is kinda ehhh like I'm gonna try to write longer chapters... BUT, anyways I would like to remind that this is kinda of an AU in where Cricket doesn't die... Love that little guy, and secondly, this happens after what happened with Maggie and everything- And thank you for the love and support my fellow followers! Please leave a review! With that being said, I'm writing a new story about the awesome and sexy movie "This Means War" and kinda doing it with the characters from the movie "Spy". I'm so stoked to write it!**

 **Chester-Grey: I love it when my cliff hangers are absolutely evil, it gets you more into reading the story and the drama muahahaha! But in this chapter, you'll know what's coming up :3**

 **Guest: Your feelings might be right... Or ?!**

 **Logan creed67: The chapter is upgraded my dear, I hope it's to your liking. Enjoy!**

 **Rasha007: So MAYBE, this is how they'll find out... OR maybe not... Her father and brothers will definitely know about this, but the question is will the Bondurants? hehe**

 **Guest: I'm glad you are liking it! Please enjoy this chapter, hun!**

 **Lycan Lover 411: I hope you look forward into reading this chapter! I can't wait to post more!**

When the shrill bang reverberated against the frigid air, the world that was revolving around had abruptly stopped. The ballads that had crickets, and frogs serenading from melodic duets, had unexpectedly eased into muteness. Little by little, tear like drops began to spill from the crowding gray clouds. Very quickly Mother Nature transformed the dirt easily in mud in matter of minutes. And while falling, Florence's hands were reaching out for someone, trying to grasp for salvation. Her eyes were slowly blinking as she was crumbling towards her death, Florence's painful chokes were breathing like a fish out of water, trying to hold onto the thin golden thread of life.

Her body temperature dropped as her body shivered trying to create some sort of heat. She plummeted onto the muddy road with a _splash_ , landing on her forearms first trying to stay somewhat awake and balanced. But, she couldn't take it anymore, so she calmly and sleepily laid out her body against the wet Earth, lazily lolling her dark orbs. The bleeding holes that stabbed through her stomach, seeped out of her loose shirt, blood trailing into the small stream of water. Her old-worn hat fitted loosely on her weightless head, but surprisingly hasn't fallen yet.

The environment around her became topsy-turvy as vertigo walked into her senses. _Florence was quitting_. Her body was doused in with cold dirt and oncoming death. She didn't hear the desperate woes of the men around her. In slow motion, the boys were running to her frantically trying to keep her awake, skidding against the mud next to her freezing body. Florence felt agitated when one of them firmly grabbed her fragile body, picking her up and walking hastily towards a vehicle.

 _I feel so goddamn tired,_ she uttered motionless. She knew that in this life, she wouldn't have made it past her early twenties and _that_ was a fact. A rough calloused hand began to slap her softly ordering for her to stay awake, they weren't giving her much choice in the matter. The skin wrapped on her body became pale, filling up with goosebumps, and the rain that fell from the sky left dew drops on her face. Her eyebrows and eyelashes blackened as they stuck heavily together from the rain. Florence's lips reddened a bit, making them look swollen and moist.

Her ear was on someone's warm shoulder, her arm draped over their puffed chest feeling their rapid heartbeat. Vibrations ran through her body, her eyes half lidded when she watched the person's jaw move very quickly indicating that they were barking out orders. Thunder and lighting had made their entrance noticeable and loud, scaring off a few animals towards their dens. The teared wooden windows of the lonely farm began to open and close, repeating the same action over and over again. Leaves and small pebbles picked up in the wind, hitting everything in its path.

Blood was being coughed out of Florence's mouth when she was finally put in the passenger seat of a strangers car. No longer was the rain hitting her as she sat on the white leathered seats. The cacophony of heavy rain hitting the cars exterior, made her feel even droopier. The drivers door was opened, followed by a grunt and a smell of cigar smoke. She heard the car revving to a go, never once looking back into the bloodbath. Florence didn't even notice that there was a boy close to her age sitting at the backseat looking at her with worry. Street lights and trees blurred through the window of the speeding vehicle, time never slowed down for the aging, but damn did it chose to slow during the pain.

 _Dying_. She knew that she was dying, she felt like death anyways. That was the only thing playing in her mind like a broken record. Florence was remembering a discussion that she was having with her father saying that death is only perceived on how the person wants it to be. Usually, some type of agonizingly eerie pain takes place before the time of death, and some lucky if they left peacefully. But, rare when they come back to life, remembering very little on how it felt to be in death or on the verge of it... Seeing things that weren't there, saying things that couldn't be said with courage or without looking like a fool.

And Florence began to mumble under her breath. She could never repay the friendship that Cricket and Jack has given her, or Bertha even though she knew her for a very short amount of time. "'M goin' to sleep," muttered Florence as her head tried to get comfortable on her shoulder.

" _Like hell you are,_ " growled _Forrest_ suddenly. His foot presses harder on the accelerator as Jack helps keeping Florence awake by talking to her.

She tried to swallow in the pain and said weakly,"-girl." Wincing, her hands hovered over her wound trying to stabilize it.

"What's that, Rence?" asked Jack encouragingly. Forrest's hands tightened around the wheel, white knuckling himself. His hard eyes looked at the rearview mirror that was reflecting on Jack's face.

"'M-m..girl," she repeated tiredly.

"You're what?"

Clearing her scratchy throat she reiterated," _I'm...a..g_ -"

The car stopped in a harsh screech when they arrived at the small hospital. Forrest and Jack got out of the car opening Florence's door. Forrest carried her bridal style, up the small concrete steps and bursting through the poorly made doors. The light bulbs in the entrance flickered when Forrest had almost kicked down the door with a dying girl his arms. Boots squeaked loudly against the renovated white tiled floors, as Jack was yelling for an available doctor and nurse. The small sum of nurses that were in the front quickly got off of their chairs from the front office, running everywhere to make the preparations as the doctor and a small blonde nurse took them to the operational room.

They entered into the sterilized quarter, seeing all the equipment set out, Forrest laid Florence carefully on the bed as she let out a pained whimper. Tear after tear began to fall out from her red eyes, not noticing Forrest's guilty gaze. In, walked the doctor, clearly a man in his mid-thirties, in a white apron, hands in gloves and silver glasses over his long nose. The nurses that came in were in the same fashion, gathering around Florence.

A very bright light was focused on her wounds that bled through her wet shirt. The doctor nodded at the nurses to cut open her clothing. Forrest and Jack didn't know what to do on that point, they actually wanted to be in the room with Florence. One of the taller nurses, who seemed a bit stressed with a few strands of black hair sticking from her head, shooed Forrest and Jack from the room. Surely, they tensed in reluctancy, but knew they had to go.

Just when the nurse pushed against Forrest's hard back, he looked back from the entrance to see a nurse's gloved hand reaching for Florence's cap and he furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity. None of his brothers including himself had ever seen _Rence_ with his hat off, that _boy_ kept it on longer that anyone he knew, no matter how hot it was, or the situation. But, the door was closed on Forrest's face, as the nurse was about to take it off. He huffed without patience and stomped away towards the tiny waiting room where he knew Jack would be.

His younger brother sat on a chair, legs apart as he slouched over with his elbows sitting on his thighs and his hands clasped together. The nurses already came and bothered the brothers asking if they too had any injuries just by looking at the dried blood on their clothes.

"We're fine," Forrest said broodily, looking at the cross hanged up on the yellowish wall. He stood, walking to a chair that was next to a small table that had a holy bible sat on the top of it. He rubbed his eyes with his hands that then snaked to the sides of his head, scratching it. _Those_ troubled eyes, looking at him with pain and all he returned was a helpless gaze. A coward is how he felt, how dare he let someone younger to save his delinquent life? Let alone it was Jack's close friend. Forrest knew that he would be damned from the beginning, the Bondurants were born to be damned. They acted on as if they had nothing to lose, each one of them were notorious and act on instinct. _Invisible_ is what they were known to be, but the loved ones that surrounded them were never around for much time. Forrest took a glance at the door and saw the lanky form of his oldest brother walk in.

A tooth pick was sticking from the side of his mouth, he nodded solemnly at Forrest. "It's done. Left the four crates of 'shine with ol' RJ, and the other two at Marin's lil' speakeasy." Howard's tongue started playing with the pick and whistled, letting out a small chuckle, "Them flappers know how to get 'round. They sure know how to hold themselves." He crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe waiting for a response from either of his younger brothers.

Forrest slowly nodded in approval and then asked, "And the body that shot the boy?"

"Nice and packed. Bleeding out a bit I think, but still wigglin' around," responded Howard. "We gon' take him to the same back room?"

Forrest shook his head. He got up from the chair and was shoulder to shoulder with Howard. He looked up at him coldly and sneered in a whisper, "That son o'va bitch is gone get what he deserves." Howard paused without blinking, looking speechless for a moment at his middle brother, and he knew that he was determined. He actually felt bad for the bastard who is gone get it.

The voice of their youngest brother intruded asking, "And how do you plan on doin' it?"

A nurse walked in, looking calm and satisfied with a clipboard in one hand. She smiled kindly at the brothers and announced, "The girl is stabilized, still going through surgery. No doubt that she's gonna make it."

" _Girl_?" Forrest's harsh tone echoed in the small room.

Jack intervened, patting his brother's back and replied incredulously, "No ma'am, I think you got us confused. We brought in a young man. Rence."

The nurse looked down on her clipboard embarrassed from her mistake. "Oh- _oh_! Wrong family, I am sorry for the inconvenience! I'll be back with your boy's information." With that she practically ran from the room with a blush settling on her face.

"Ma would roll in her grave if she knew that a girl took the bullet," Jack muttered as he walked out of the room.

"She would have our heads on plates," Howard added with a snort. He and Forrest followed Jack through the small hallways of the hospital. Each of them had their fair share of going to the hospital, so many times in fact that they could remember the rooms that they stayed in. Doctors and nurses knew too well the brothers for they helped mending their wounds in their times of need. People that stood in the hallways were whispering among themselves, looking at the Bondurants and quickly ran into their rooms, shutting the doors. They knew who those gang filled men were, not men of God, but men of Cain walked through these supposed safe floors. They avoided them as much as they can, some say that they were even surprised that it wasn't them being in one of the rooms. The three brothers walked side by side, looking threatening and menacing as ever.

They made their way outside into the rain, the stolen car and their small truck glistened in the showers. Jack asked a bit loudly, "So what next?"

Forrest grumbled, "Going to the Whyte's."

"Shit," Howard mumbled.

 ** _...WHYTE'S ABODE..._**

 _12:50 A.M_

The air felt wrong, somehow emptier. The home was filled with soft snores of men, the scent of burning wood and dust occupied it. Alcide slowly creaked on eye opened, only to be awakened by the clack of thunder. The room became white for a few seconds and stopped only to start again-he only then realized that it was lightning. Small to medium sized white rocks began to hail from the heavens, hitting the quiet home harshly. His body shivered from the memories of one particular night like this, one of the many reasons why Alcide resented the rainy weather. Shirtless and only wearing pajama pants that clung to his hipbones, he took off the comfy covers from his body.

He let out a loud yawn, knowing that his family wouldn't be able to hear him and then scratched his rear. Alcide then began to explore the darkened home that only showed light if lightning struck nearby. Peace came to his mind only if he checked that his family was safe and breathing. He opened each of their doors quietly, peeking his head through the small crack and once he sees that their chest is rising and falling, he was content. The oldest brother knew that his family could take care of themselves pretty well, but he didn't give a damn if his family were filled with grown men. He did it to protect _their_ Florence and to make sure that the accident wouldn't happen again.

None of the men were ever the same after that. Florence was too young to remember.

They all had countless sleepless nights, insomnia struck hard for the poor family. It would be any of the brothers or even the father checking every night for their safety. So, when Alcide decided to check his little sister's room, he felt dread. He frowned as he felt his heart dropped only to widen his eyes when he felt that her room was windy and cool. He threw her door open and saw that her bed was empty with the window open.

He thought the worse.

 _It was happening again_.

His mouth opened, letting out a thunderous alarm to alert his whole family, "SHE'S GONE! FLORENCE IS GONE!" He ran banging on his brothers door, and ran into his father's room seeing that he was already up. Ernest had a stricken look on his face, obviously worried for his only daughter. "Pop, I-I think someone took her. Sh-she wouldn't ha-have-" Alcide's voice began to break for his kid sister.

"We cannot _let_ _this_ happen again, you hear? It won't," Ernest growled with determination. Clarence and Clement looked breathless at the older males in the room. "Grab what you can, pistols, rifles or shotguns. We'll need to split up." They all quickly put on their hunting gear and then ran down the stairs with murderous glances. Just as they were about to open their mouths to plan, they all heard a loud knock on their door.

Clement was the first to react. He opened the door without hesitation and looked at the strangers outside. Ernest's and Alcide's eyes were a bit surprised if anything.

Outside stood the Bondurants.

And when they are outside together in an unreasonable hour... the Whyte's knew something was definitely wrong.

"Mister Whyte, an accident occurred- aiming at us, but your boy was caught in the cross fire-" Jack began nervously.

"What happened?!" Ernest roared, getting up to their faces.

"Rence- is at the hospital, bedridden, sir. He had a couple bullets in him."

And that's when all hell broke loose.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 _ **Trust in Me**_

 **A/N Thanks for waiting! I hope you like this chapter even though it has more dialogue than anything! Please review and follow!**

Thankfully, Jack had avoided Ernest's fist that was about to hit the right side of the cheek. But to Forrest's luck, that missed punch landed on his face, throwing his head sideways-something that he wasn't expecting. Untamed fire began to fill his eyes, as much as he wanted to throw the punch right where it came from, he stood his ground. _For him_ , for the boy who nearly sacrificed his life. Clenching his hands into his brass knuckles was an automatic response for him, a flight or fight situation. Howard's gaze darkened looking at the father who tried to punch his little brother, and had an itch to scratch; a scratch that can only be satisfied once he gets his fill. Jack's eyebrows rose, licked his lips and stammered, "We-well, I don't thi-think a fights necess-"

Ernest's eyes attached to his with a death glare that would shame.

"-necessary," Jack finished with a slight squeak. "Mister Whyte."

For what seems years, only a few minutes go by in a pause. Ernest's shoulders slumped, his features looked depressed and defeated. While staring at Forrest, his question was directed to Jack, "What happened?" Clement went to shut the door as his family and the Bondurants stood rigidly in the middle of the living room.

Howard sobered up and answered for Jack, "We went for a run. Took the truck, went through the same roads, nothing big just ideal."

"Saw a blockade, happens time to time. Big guns, din' leave without a fight," Forrest continued. He winced a bit when his face started to hurt, knowing that a bruise would soon appear. "Except this time was different. Someone else is playing their cards."

"Tried to beat the answer out of one of them. None would squeal."

"And my boy? _Hm_? What happened with that?" Ernest crossed his arms waiting for an explanation.

Jack's mouth hesitated, but finally said,"The fight wasn't too far from here, out at the old Frigg's Barn. We were about done, only a few men out-nothing that we couldn't take care of. When all of a sudden someone came guns blazin' shootin' everyone like it's no ones goddamn business." At this statement, Florence's brothers smirk proudly at her retaliation. "Took out at least four mean without trouble, jumpin' everywhere. We wonderin' who in the hell is helping... and there he was, just walking to us with blood on his shirt like if it was the normal thing to do," Jack retold the story with a bit of awe. "We were a few feet away from each other when your boy noticed someone aiming their gun to my brother."

Ernest eye's saddened a bit with worry. He knew what Jack was about to say next. "Your boy pushed Forrest outta the way and took the bullets for him without a thought."

" _Who_ the hell shot, him?" Clarence asked.

"Haven't seen him anywhere in Franklin." Forrest shook his head. "We have him tied up and ready for you. Back in the trunk...Thought that you might want to have a conversation."

"Take the son of a bitch through the back," Alcide decided with approval. He cracked his knuckles and set off quickly towards the room. "We're gonna have a small talk with him, Pa."

Panicked yells from the man who shot the poor girl were coming from outside, pleading, " _Please, please, don't hurt me! Ahh-AH._ " Jack and Howard were handling the man as Clement and Clarence were watching without sorrow.

"My boy is too good for the world. Always sacrificin' himself for others," Florence's father commented gravely. "He gone get himself killed." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and inwardly groaned. "Too damn loyal."

Forrest could agree to that statement. It has been a few months since he met the boy. If anything, Rence was just as loyal as Cricket. He didn't expect pay whenever he helped out at the station, although Forrest tried to pay him on each occasion, but the damn young was stubborn. All the times that Rence worked, Forrest would sneak in the dollar bills into the boy's loose pockets of his shirt or pants. Unsurprisingly, whenever the boy went home, Forrest would find the money that he paid to Rence in his office. Then the time when the boy fought beside them, protecting him and his brothers for which he would always be thankful. If anything, Forrest felt guilt for letting Rence to be in their company knowing who they are. His jaw clenches knowing that he would have to talk to his brothers about Rence.

The boy cannot be in their company when danger arises.

He can't be with them at all.

. . . . **Franklin Hospital.** . . .

Her pupils attuned towards the natural lights coming from the windows. Florence slowly blinked, realizing she wasn't in the safety of her home. She tried to sit herself up but created a loud gut-retching groan instead. Her mouth was completely deprived of the necessary fluids that needed to float into her body. If being in pain wasn't bad, the hospital was worse than an oven. Their windows were opened and some rooms were lucky if they had fans. She stiffly lifted the pale covers from her body and noted that she was wearing a white hospital gown. Sore and swollen were the only sensations that her able body would be able to produce. She knew that she had scratches and bruises forming in some areas of herself, Florence frowns at the thought of being useless and in pain but sadly she can't do anything about it. Her small hand tried to rub her head in comfort when she noticed that her hat was off. Her eyes widened and her neck craned in every direction looking for it. They took off every piece of clothing off of her! And now her ample breasts were very obvious.

 _This is bullshit_ , she grumbled.

Her ears suddenly focused on the hoard of footsteps walking down the hallways, along with a few voices. Florence was panicking, she needed a plan and needed it now. Across from her bed was a bathroom, perhaps she could make it. Her eyes shot a look at the door knob that was turning to open. The door squeaked open, followed by a nurse and to Florence's relief, her family. She inhaled deeply, knowing that she got away this time.

Her father walked in worried, furrowing his eyebrows at her. "I want to pull you over my knee and give you a good spanking," He muttered with calm lividity. "But, for now you're in a hospital. So, I'm going to ask like a calm and caring father-How are you feeling?"

Florence let out a small laugh without humor. "It's nothing compared to falling down from the tree, Pop," she groaned as gripped onto the blankets. "I'm okay." She couldn't deny that she was afraid of her father when he is mad and calm at the same time, it meant that the ticking bomb was ready to explode. The nurse set a new pitcher of water and then left the room, leaving everyone to themselves. Alcide walked next to her bed and stared down at her with an angry gaze. He looked absolutely exhausted, still wearing his pajama bottoms. Clarence's face was unreadable, plain from any emotion towards his little sister and if anything he was annoyed. Clement held his sad puppy eyed look, hoping that him or his family won't say anything that they will regret later.

Ernest laughed mockingly, turning to his sons. "Did you hear _that_ , boys? She's okay! _What a lovely day it is!_ " He turned his eyes towards his daughter, glaring at her.

"I hear ya, Pa," Alcide responded tonelessly. He narrowed his eyes to Florence and then suggested innocently, "She's okay and you know what that means..."

His father nodded. "It means that she is conscious and well enough to hear the things I will be saying next." His finger shot out, pointing at his daughter. "You will listen and you better listen well, Florence. Because, what I am about to say, I will not repeat and you will obey, am I understood?" He asked using his fatherly authority.

Florence slowly nodded.

"You know I have never raised my voice at you, Hun, but last night-last night could have been the last time we would have seen you and you would have been talking with your Ma by now. What you did was plain selfless, and stupid on your part-"

"Not to also mention fucking selfish," Alcide interrupted with a growl.

"Quiet, boy. It's my time to speak," Ernest sneered. "Florence, I know you're a good girl, everyone here knows that. The one thing I have asked you was not to show others who you really are. And then you risked yourself for who? For the group of criminals running around wavin' their guns as if they were children playin' Cowboys n' Indians?! _No! No, ma'am_. Hell, I'm not blaming them for the bullets that were stuck in ya', I knew that it was your stupid decision to help them out when they didn't even need it. I taught you better. We're Whyte's, we survive and fight on our own fights. Now, from here on out, I want you to either be at home or at the bakery working. After you are done you will have the honor to accompany me or your brothers at all times-"

Florence's eyes widened and her mouth opened to protest against her fathers commands. But his hand shot out, quickly making her choke on her complaints. He continued, "And the next time you disobey me or get into another brawl, I'm sending you to your uncle in New York. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she replied dejectedly. The room became rigid, Florence felt a small stream of tears coming slowly from her eyes. Crying was never a problem for her unless someone tries to take away something that she so deeply cared about. Which was very rare. It was an uncomfortable sight for the Whyte brothers to see their youngest cry, it nothing except soften their hearts towards her.

She felt a hand drop on her shoulders, but she angrily shrugged it off. Her father hesitated before saying, "I'm doing this because I care, Sweet Pea."

"You don't understand! I've never had anyone-I never had friends before. Until I met Jack and Cricket. They-they are fun and they care about each other, even me! No one's ever interested into talking to someone like me! You let Alcide, Clarence and Clement to have friends! Why can't I?! I-I-" Her quiet sobs and talking became incoherent. Ridiculous is one thing Florence had felt at the very moment, what kind of twenty year old cried over loneliness? Oh right, a sheltered one. Pathetic was another one, the last time she cried like that was when she was going through puberty.

Ernest began to feel sympathetic for his daughter, but brushed it off by saying,"The Bondurants are dangerous."

"And? So are we!"

"Yeah, well they won't always be there to protect you like we could, _Hermana_ ," Clement added.

"I can protect 'll trained me to be the best! And what? My training was for nothing?! Everyone here knows I can!"

"That was _if_ by chance we weren't there to protect you. That's a big if," Alcide reminded. " _No seas idiota, Florencia._ "

She knew the conversation was done when her family began to talk to her in Spanish by using her hispanic version of her name. A headache began to make its way throughout her head since all of this arguing and being shot tired her out. But the next question in life is:

What's going to happen from now on?

 ** _... R..._**

From the morning up, till down at dawn, Florence painstakingly recovered from her wounds by staying in her bed. She slowly walked around the home to get used to the soreness, her body ached from sitting around too much. After her little dispute with her family at the hospital, the Bondurants finally visited her. Most obvious, she still wore her hat and tried to cover herself with the blankets. Jack gave her a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes, Howard even looked a bit down and a little sober, Forrest however was still his brooding and glaring type as ever. Then they said their good-byes. She knew that it was their last farewells.

The Whyte family then noticed a change in Florence. She no longer was quite and gentle as before, now, she was a bit short tempered at times and threw back some answers sassily. She impatiently stomped in the small bakery like a animal who was unwillingly pushed into a cage. Each day, her brothers worried, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. If anything, they were a bit amused. What they saw, was something from an old legend that their father used to tell them when they were younger, _The Phoenix_. It seems as if their mother was reborn into Florence, her spirit and her wit is coursing through her daughter. Hearts squeezed a bit, even though the brothers try to ignore it, because when they saw their sister, they saw their mother.

And that was the most precious reasons in why they needed to protect her the most.

In the middle of the forest stood a small bakery. Nothing grand but held with much pride. Its exterior was painted in a pale blue, the window sills were painted white and a few small plants growing on them. Around the building many patches of ivies stuck themselves, giving it an earthly view. Tiny white metal tables and chairs sat outside, some with umbrellas. The Whyte's always kept their place in most pristine conditions, meaning that they swept outside, and picked up every piece of garbage. Inside, the walls were painted in pale yellow, and in a way represented a small diner except there were no booths but wooden tables. Florence in her boyish disguise, was cleaning the glass cups with a clean strip of cloth. Her hands work their way through the see-through cups and then putting them on the shelves. Wiping off the sweat that slid off of her forehead, Florence went to go check the bread loaves until she heard a small ding coming from the entrance. She turned around to see a very happy Bertha at the end of the cashier.

The blonde girl greeted, "Hey ya, Florence! Daddy left me in charge of the bread today!" She looked around and then complimented, "Nice place you got here!"

"Thank you," Florence replied with a smile that was unconvincing."Bertha! It's about time you showed up!"

"I need a loaf of corn bread if that's alright with you!" Bertha then noticed a glum face on her friend. Her eyebrows furrowed and she asked, "What's wrong, Florence?"

"It-it's a long story," she stammered with a frowned. "But, the bread will be ready in about ten minutes if it's fine with you?"

Bertha nodded. "In the meanwhile, you can tell me your story?" Florence replied by motioning at the two light wooden chairs at a small table next to the open windows. After a few seconds, Florence went on how she wasn't allowed to be anywhere near the Bondurants and her fathers reason. She even told Bertha her whole story of her life, in return her friend listened with the upmost attention and care. She knew that Florence's case was like no other. They talked and talked, even laughed, Bertha knew that the tomboy needed one of those.

"...And now you know my life," Florence finished.

"You have it harsh," gasped Bertha. "Your family can't keep you in forever, Florence! I mean someday you're gonna get married, or find someone! You will go rabid if you stay any longer like a trapped bird!"

Florence lips thinned into a straight line. "I know. I'm twenty, everyone here is married at eighteen! I'm not so worried about marriage, Bertha. It scares the hell outta me. But, I need an excuse to leave someday!"

After a while, Bertha let out a devious grin. "Maybe you do have an excuse."

"What do you mean?"

"Why not pretend to be a girl?"

"You're speaking a bunch of wack-a-doo."

"Hear me out! Everyone, or the people that've met you know that you are a boy... But, what if for once you go out like a girl? Listen, being a boy or girl both have their advantages and disadvantages. Maybe for once you can be a girl to yours. Everyone underestimates girls, and if anything many will be kinder and protective over you-"

Florence interrupted with a snort, "Okay, one: That plan ain't half bad, but you forget that my heritage is a bit different. So, no one's gonna give a damn about me. And two: How will I ever leave my home?"

"Florence?"

"Yeah?"

"Use your womanly sisterly charms, everyone including your brothers will be bound to feel bad for you anyways."

Florence rolled her eyes and stood from the table. She went to grab the newly baked corn bread and handed it to Bertha who then stuffed in carefully into her basket. They both began walking outside, in where Bertha and Florence hugged their good-byes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Rence you _motherfucking_ traitor!" someone yelled. "You son of a bitch! Get your hands off of Bertha!"

"Jack?!" Florence bellowed with shock.

"Jack, it's not what it seems!" Bertha tried to explain.

"What the hell you mean it's not what it seems?! You seem to be real cozy with _Rence!_ " he spat out with distaste.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Florence thought that enough was enough.

So she took off her hat and let her long brown hair fall to their curls, past her shoulders.

Jack eyes widened. His mouth stammered, "You-you're a-a-"

"Girl," Florence confirmed with a slight nod. And then said unsurely, "Surprise?"

 ** _A/N MUAHAHAAHAHA_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 _ **Fly, Little Bird. Fly.**_

 **Sorry! I'm late then again with updating! I would like to thank my readers and followers who so far commented and liked my story! That being said, I will also start editing the previous chapters!**

 **Goldcoastkilos: Your name reminds me of Lana Del Rey for some reason haha! But, anyways thank you for loving my story so far! Although I kinda regret that she has been discovered this early into the story, but I'm gonna try to keep her in the dark from Forrest and Howard as long as I can muahaha. Enjoy this chapter!**

 **Lycan Lover 411: I'm not gonna lie I love writing Jack since he is more naive and more childish than his older brothers. Oh, the young days! Haha. So, yeah he knows and soon Cricket will too! Hopefully not too much of a spoiler. Thanks for reading!**

 **Minstorai: Thank you for your many lovely comments! And I hope that you enjoy the story!**

 **Selena: I am waaaaaaaaaay overdue with the update :s But, thank you for loving my story!**

Once upon a time, there was a period in which her father's fear kept her at bay. The traumatized nightmares that hid in his eyes, the worry that kept him and his sons awake at night. The only goal was to keep his family and his daughter safe from the devil's ways of the world. In the sad truth though, Ernest Whyte would be closest thing to that of a devil. _His henchman_ as some would say, they knew his ways and it came back to bite his ass. No one could have healed his pain and no matter how close he was to redemption, there was a hole in his heart of lost memories. He dreamt the day in where he would see to his family's freedom.

But, his cup overflowed from the problems that came pouring from the dark. He wanted to be freed from his chains that trapped him with his haunting life. And by his own foolish mistakes, he dragged his children down with him, especially his sons. Haunting was a fitting title for his family since they died the day Amelia left and made the others pay for playing a part in her death. _Oh yes,_ they caught every bastard they could and the ones that got in the way.

He fought his way through a raging war. Ernest made sure no one messed with Florence. The life of revenge and rage wasn't a life for her. It just wasn't fair. Thankfully, things became calm when they weren't involved, he worked too damn hard to keep it that way. In the end of this fairytale, this little tomboy grew out of her shell and a new period began. Determination kept her going. Of course, she had no idea what in the hell she was doing or going to do. She had willingly blew her cover right in front of Jack to start her mission. The question though is: _what kind of mission_?

Talking to Bertha made Florence realize something. She couldn't be in hiding forever. There will be time in where everyone would find out on their own. _One thing a time_ she breathed in slowly. For now, she only wanted Jack to be the first male to know. And then maybe Cricket. She felt horrible that she just threw away everything that her family had worked hard for to keep her safe. She wouldn't be in this alone, Jack, Cricket and Bertha would be there for her- and maybe sometime in the future her family. She was twenty damn it, and it was time that she took her life by her hands. Florence wanted to prove that she is capable and determined. The last thing she wanted to do is to let down her family into disappointment.

Florence's eyes seemed desperate, exasperated as she was breathless. It was the very first time that Jack had seen her set of long and oily hair. Even if it wasn't he at all expected. The boy had his speechless moments and this was one of them. When he thought that his loyal friend was betraying him for Bertha, he was wrong to say the very least. And now one thought was flying through his mind. _What the hell was he thinking bringing Florence into their lives_. He realized that now his mama would be rolling in her grave, Florence took the bullet for Forrest, she fought side by side with them for crying out loud. They should have been protecting her, but how could they have known that _Rence_ was actually Flo _rence_?

Jack's mouth was gapping. What could he say? He walked closer to Florence and grabbed Bertha to hug her to his relief. His nose was on the nape of her shoulder as he held her tightly, whispering, "God, Bertha. I'm sorry." He looked up at Florence.

"It's not me you should be apologizin' to," Bertha whispered back, turning her head to Florence.

The three stood together in front of the bakery while no words were forming from their mouths. "I don't even know what to say," Jack began. "You could have been killed because of us. What the hell were you doing in that get up? You should be courtin' someone- being with us won't give you a chance in that if you're dead!" His eyes widened in slight horror and guilt as he ran his hands through his hair. "Howard and Forrest gone kill me. No, wait. Ma is gone rise from her resting spot to kill me _then_ my brothers will help-"

"NO!" Florence and Bertha interrupted at the same time yelling.

"What the hell do you mean no?" Jack practically growled.

"I mean it's my secret to tell, Jack," Florence replied quickly. "And I trust you and Bertha. I just want to control my life for once."

"And showing yourself to us would help that?"

"Look, I don't know okay?" Florence grumbled as she pulled the hairs out of her head. "I'm just making this up as I go."

Jack gave a glance at Bertha for reassurance when in return she nodded. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know we gotta tell Cricket an' thas' it.

But, if you're with us and there's danger you gotta leave for your safety, _Rence_. Our lives ain't worth it."

"Understood," Florence agreed a bit hesitant. "Thank you." She couldn't help as her heart swelled when he called her by the name that she started their friendship with. He accepted her once more. In a way, she couldn't help but frown that he regarded his family's life so low. If Florence had the chance, she would save his family. _As if they needed saving._

"I don't know where this is supposed to lead," Jack admitted.

"I won't be around you for some time. Just waitin' till everything cools down enough to talk to my folks." She smiled softly at her blonde friend. "Just be around with Bertha, I think. Starting things slow."

"What in the hell are you trying to prove, Rence?"

"That a girl can take care of herself in this world." With that she turned around, walking back into the bakery, wondering where the hell should she start at.

* * *

The days came by collecting, sooner than later the days became weeks. Each day the same routine would ensue. Florence would wake up, eat and go to the bakery or tend the farm. But at all means do not go crawling back towards the Bondurants or to anyone else in that matter. Her father and her brothers kept her busy whenever she had free time, they would either take her to some places or made her work on her training skills. By nighttime, she would eat her food tiredly, go upstairs to take a bath and go to sleep. Then the circle of life would start once more.

Sure, at times being at the bakery were considerably boring when it was slow and lonesome, weirdly enough that would be the only time her family let her have peace. Bertha would come, inviting her to come to her family home and church. The church part Florence denied that request quickly, but meeting Bertha's family was one she was thinking about taking. She cringed at the thought of wearing a dress just to properly visit the Minnix's, so it wouldn't be anytime soon that she would be going over. The girl was thankful for Bertha ever since she met her at the market and now she is helping her plan out everything. Florence couldn't deny that she wasn't thinking about the Bondurants and what they would be doing today. Being at the station? Mending the distillery? Cricket and Jack helping out on runs? Her cheek rested on her palm as she kept daydreaming about them.

She kept thinking about the day she got shot. Florence absentmindedly rubbed on her scar of the bullet wound and she thought about that very night. The very night where she gained their trust even more but lost it right after. It was the very night for the first time where she knew how it felt to be in a man's arms. She never forgot when he picked her up so quickly, or how his heart was beating as if it was ticking to explode. Nor would she ever forget how fantastic it felt to be in his warm and safe arms-never had she ever felt so reassured in her life. Well, besides being with her family, but being with Forrest was different somehow. She _felt_ something, she wasn't sure what it was, nor did she want to.

Later that night, for the very first time in weeks, Florence decided to speak during her family dinner. She had been forking her dinner, unable to eat the peas that her father made. Her cheek was deflated on one hand as the other held the fork. No one seemed to notice her disappointed daze or her bored spirits. Her brothers and father seemed their usual selfs, laughing and throwing back remarks at each other. The Whyte family never talked about lifting her punishment even if almost two months had passed. Florence had enough, she had purposely dropped her fork on her plate. The sound of clattering travels throughout the room, quieting everyone.

Alcide filled the void with his voice. "Florence?"

They began to sense her distress. She had been staring at her plate none stop as if something exciting were to happen on it. She coughed a bit awkwardly and then mumbled something.

"What?" Her father asked unable to hear anything.

She muttered something again.

Clarence gave a questionable glance, clearly not understanding what she was saying.

"Bertha invited me to a picnic down at the lake." She said in a whisper. Florence didn't want to meet her father's or brothers eyes. Ernest and his boys were looking at each other as if they had spoke telepathically. The room was so quiet, someone was bound to hear a feather drop to the floor. "She knows." Coming from that comment, everyone tensed as if they were on high alert.

" _Excuse me?_ " Ernest snarled, not believing on what his daughter said.

"Bertha. Invited. Me." Florence eyes couldn't help but darken. She was more surprised that her voice didn't waver at all. "To. A. Picnic."

Her father stood up from his chair so quickly that the chair screeched against the wood, no doubt leaving its skid marks against it. He scoffed angrily, "I'm sorry, but I thought I heard that you were stupid enough to reveal yourself. And for what? Hm? Damn it, Florence! You endangered yourself!"

A shaky reply came from her, "You wouldn't-"

"I've worked too hard for you to be walking into your own trap-"

"I AM TWENTY! WHAT OTHERS DO AND THINK I WILL NOT COWER IN FEAR! I WILL LIVE MY LIFE. I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO SEE MYSELF AS AN EQUAL!" She yelled in a firm voice. "I will no longer be the girl who is scared of her father's fears. I think it's time for me to face my own fears."

"You don't know what you're talking about-"

"I know plenty what I am talking about," she growled."How can I be strong if I do not know my strengths. What you taught me would be all for nothing if I do not put it to use when the time is right."

Ernest relented with defeat in his eyes. Alcide's eyes widened and he too, stood up from his chair. He pointed an angry finger at his youngest sister as he was looking at his father with such incredulity. "Pop! You-you're not seriously considering this-"

"Quiet, boy." Her father then nodded. "I hate to admit this, but your sister is in every way right. I just-I just-" He sighed, running his hands down his tired face. "She's almost twenty-one, Al. We can't always be there for her as much as I hate to say. She's grown-she needs to fly. Your Ma would have our behinds if she knew that we caged up our beautiful little girl."

A hand grabbed Ernest's shoulder reassuringly. When he turned around it was Clarence giving his father the support that he needed. "But, she would understand why ya' did it, Pop. This world is too cruel, but Florence is getting older. She's smart, she ain't like any of the other girls in town-"

"Because everyone thought that she was a boy," Clement joked, raising his cup of moonshine saluting his sister. "She can hold her own better then the men in town."

Alcide reluctantly caved in. Realizing the seriousness of the situation. It wasn't like she was a brat who was throwing a tantrum because she couldn't get her way. They deprived her of all connections of life. She was too guarded, too sheltered. Florence ain't getting any younger nor the rest of them. She knows how the world is, but she's never been in it. She still needs to learn and their mother would yell at them if they knew how things were. Amelia always supported her family to have good friends to be with since life was so short. The oldest of the siblings gulped and said,"We will always have your back, _Hermanita_. If someone gives you trouble, you give trouble right back."

Florence blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears coming. "I-I don't understand. I thought you'd fight harder about this," she replied hoarsely. "So, am-am I finally free?" She bit her lip in anticipation.

Ernest winced when she asked her question. It made him sound like a horrible parent, locking his daughter away and not seeing a single ray of sunshine. He confirmed, "I trust you. But, prepare to be disappointed on what lays out there. It's the others that I do not trust."

She smiled excitedly and jumped up from her seat to hug her father. As she held him tightly, he patted the back of her head and gave her a small kiss on it. "Thank you."

"You think it's that easy?" Clement smirked.

"What do you mean?"

"We're still gonna train. Harder this time," Alcide demanded.

"Of course we are," Florence said in monotone.

As the rest of the warm night went by, Ernest needed a few last words with his daughter. They cleaned and organized the kitchen and dining room, checked the locks and bid their nights. Florence was walking up the stairs when she noticed that her father came out of his room. He motioned for her to walk with him into his room. A small candle lit the room, his bed was like every bed in the house: squeaky and old. An old photo of her mother and father lay on his nightside, knowing that her father would look at it before he went to sleep. Ernest took comfort praying to his dead wife sometimes. She sat on his gray quilted bed that had small red flowers sewn into it by the courtesy of her mother.

The older man opened the closet looking for something. He mumbled a short, "Aha!" and he took out an unopened box. Ernest gave his daughter a sad smile before handing out the dusty thing.

Florence furrowed her eyebrows and took the box without question. When she opened the box's flaps, she began to choke up with emotion. Her eyes once more had water surfacing. She breathed as calm as she could muster,"These-these were _hers_." Amazement clearly showed on her young face as she took out different styled dresses from the opening. "They're so-so beautiful," she whispered. Looking at her father she asked, "Where did she get these?"

"Your mother used to clean for a wealthy woman who threw out her dresses if she had seen a small rip or stain on it," Ernest mentioned. "Amelia didn't like things go to waste and she could practically fix anything, so she took them."

"And this one?" Florence asked, holding up a beautiful emerald dress with a low cut neckline. Clearly, this dress would be perfect if she wanted to show her curves. All of them were.

"Your uncle from New York gave that to her."

She asked distractedly,"How is he anyways."

"Managed to get into the business. Still chasing the one thing he can't have."

"And what's that?" She kept looking through the last of her dresses and found a simple pearl necklace that came with a matching bracelet.

"Love." He changed the subject by commenting,"I know the dresses are a bit old fashioned-"

"They're beautiful," Florence interjected with a pointed look.

He gave a small smirk and continued,"You can take them to the seamstress to have em' fixed."

"I don't know if I could."

"It was just a suggestion. So, who are you going with again?"

"Bertha Minnix. The preacher's daughter," She said putting the dresses back into the box.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Minnix? Really? Huh, that's new. Well if she'd ever like to come by she is more than welcomed."

"Thanks, Pa and thanks again for giving me something that I had thought to lose forever."

"And what's that?"

"Hope," She said with a twinkle in her eye. "G'night, Pop."

She left his room with the box of dresses and closed the door. "G'night, Sweet Pea."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 _ **Into the Woods**_

 **A/N WARNING WARNING WARNING SOME SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER. This will be the first and last warning you'll get folks. There's a reason why it's rated M. Oh, and thanks for being patient!**

 **goldcoastkilos: Thank you for liking the chapter! And Lana Del Rey is my favorite singer ;)**

 **Minstorai: I'm glad you like the reaction of her brothers and father! I hope you'll like this chapter :D**

 **Lycan Lover 411: I hope that you think that this chapter is awesome! Please enjoy!**

 **casper6six6: Hopefully this story will get better and better and you read it :3**

 **Rae: I won't stop anytime! It's only beginning to get interesting, dear!**

 **Wolviegurl: I'm giving more today! Thanks for reading!**

Florence couldn't remember the last time when she had smiled or laughed this much. Of course, it caught Jack, Bertha and even Cricket by surprise. She still held her boyish posture and preferred if they had stayed as preserved. Summer was passing, she met the boys around spring time and yet she couldn't believe they've gone this far. Many people relaxing on this fine day either sat on the docks or lay upon the tall grass. The blonde sat on Jack's lap as he whispered small sweet things into her ear, making Bertha giggle. From a small distance, Florence would watch as he would tuck the small strand of yellow hair behind her pale ear only to then give her small kisses.

The tomboy wondered if maybe what she thought of men was wrong. She admitted to herself that there were little amount of honorable men that resided in the small town. Her family and the Bondurants proved that they still upheld their chivalrous morals. She didn't mean to keep staring at the couple who sat a few feet away from her, but it all made her so damn curious. Having someone supporting you both physically and mentally was something she wouldn't mind; Having someone to have your back and maybe admit that they were wrong at times would be great. But, most of all, having someone love you unconditionally for who you are from the inside... she knew in return she would do the very same and happily so.

She blushed when she saw that Jack pulled Bertha into a deep kiss. Looking away, Florence looked at the diamond shining lake. From behind she heard Cricket cough, "You eventually get used to it." He motioned his head towards the loving couple.

Florence rose a brow. "Have you?"

Cricket scoffed, "Hell no."

She barked out a small laugh. The sound of her laugh was like believing if unicorns existed. He nor Jack could believe that she laughed, in truth it made their pride swell knowing they could turn someone so serious into a happier person. Her shoulders no longer seemed stiff or tensed, they would shake loosely as she would chuckle. Her eyes used to only crinkle when she squinted at the sun, but now they crinkled when she let out a smile. After all these years, Florence was finally letting some of her walls down.

The heavens became vibrant with pink and orange complexity, and up close towards the space, lavender descended upon the light sunset. She felt the warm peachiness on the sun caressing her face and she closed her eyes taking in the beauty of peace. The sounds of footsteps going over the crunchy tall grass were passing her, she noticed people began to leave to their homes. After a few hours of relaxing, Florence knew that it was time to get back to her family.

She got up then used her hands to brush off the pieces of grass from her. Sweat collected in her hair and hat, she wanted to get home as soon as possible to take a bath. Waving her farewell at the boys and Bertha, Florence said, "See ya'll later."

Jack looked uncomfortable for a second as did the rest of the group. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at your home? I'd be happier to know that you're safe there, Rence."

"I'm sure. Besides, driving me is not in the way you're going, Jack."

"No, it's fine. Get in the truck, Rence," Jack insisted.

Florence scoffed, "I know how to take care of myself, Jack."

"I know you can. I'd just feel better knowin' you're at home with your folks."

"Don't you have a run to do shortly? I said that I'm fine, Jack."

Bertha intervened, "Florence, please. It's getting darker by the second. There are unsavory men crawling pass the brothel in the woods."

Paling a few shades, Florence hissed under her breath forgetting about the brothel. Whores and dicks go on walking around that territory. But, regardless Florence shook her head. "I'm in my disguise, they won't look twice in my way. You know I'll just ignore them." She looked at the darkening sky with worry. "I need to leave."

"Damn it, Rence! Don't be ridiculous!" Cricket yelled at her back. They knew why she left. And it was for a couple of reasons. One, she was too damn stubborn and prideful, she thought that she could fight anything that the world would throw at her. Second, Florence didn't liked to be a burden to someone especially when they have a busy schedule. Jack had to drop off Bertha then go meet the others for runs. The brunette would have gladly taken Cricket with her if Jack hadn't asked for his help.

She began her journey by trekking through the forbidden forest. Florence cursed at herself for her own stupidity, she should have taken Jack's offer to drive her home. Goosebumps were quickly breaking out on her skin, the hairs of her body began to stand. The owls began to hoot and Florence felt that someone was watching her. Paranoia was whispering in her mind, " _There are eyes in these woods, child_."

" _There are eyes everywhere even when you think you cannot see them_ ," it hissed. She felt invisible hands snaking their way from the back of her neck, and fingers slowly began to caress her panicked face. Shaky breaths and panting were heard throughout the forest. She felt someone's cold and echoing breath next to her ear, " _Things happen here, dearie. Things you cannot fathom."_ It laughed mockingly at her. " _I advise you t_ o _run, child. RUN."_ She stilled when she thought that she saw a figure on the other side of the dark forest. The figure screamed and started to chase after Florence.

Not needing to be told twice, Florence had quickly left dust behind her as she sprinted. She tried not to whimper, she tried not to leave tears trailing behind her cheeks. Branches and many fallen tree trunks made it too much of an obstacle. She tried to swat away the sticks or breaking them off as she ran through them. She jumped and ducked her way towards what seems some dim street lights.

When her foot landed on the flat dirt road, she dropped to her knees and cried in relief. She had no idea why there were tears in her eyes, when she turned around to check the forest behind, no one was chasing her. Florence knew that it was all from her head. Paranoia can make you think the unthinkable when you are not paying attention. She sniffled and cleaned her nose and eyes with her sleeve. Looking at all directions, Florence knew that the coast was clear, she had to make her move.

The road was lonely, more lonely than ever. There was cackling, moaning and piano music in the distance. Men and women were lurking between the trees to have their fun. Florence bowed her head, watching the ground as she walked as stealthily as she could. She wanted to hug herself, but it would make her look like a woman more than ever if she did, and her arms forced themselves the sides of her hips. A loud groan and a woman's scream of pleasure took Florence by surprise.

"AH-Ah! Ye-yes right there, Eugene. Right there-uh, Ahh-ah," the redhead woman whimpered. He nibbled on her ear and neck as she was against a tree. How the woman didn't get any splinters on her back was beyond Florence. The woman will regret it tomorrow she was sure of it.

She felt disgusted but curious at the same time. Florence tried to look away from some of the couples, but she couldn't help it. Her cheeks were so red as if someone slapped her a hundred times. The bottom of her stomach was beginning to feel unnerving and yet was feeling the heat from under and beyond.

The man ripped open the redhead's corset and dipped his head into her panting breasts. The woman closed her eyes, pleased with this man's work. She jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist, her brown shirt was unbuttoned all the way. He took one pale breast into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue on her pink nipple. Her hands grabbed his black hair, ruffling it.

Before more could happen, Florence looked away and began to walk further towards her home. Another couple that she saw, the man began to ride up the woman skirt and took off her underwear to take her against the tree. Stronger feelings of want and lust emerged, but Florence didn't know for who and for what. Weak for sexual desire is something that she was both looking forward to but then not at the same time. She wanted to punch herself in the face, because Florence was above all of this damn it!

All but in one motion, someone's bony fingers grabbed her upper arm, pulling her towards to their filthy body. Florence dared not to look up because she smelled their moonshine breath coming into her nose. She looked around seeing that three more bodies were staggering closer to them who were obviously drunk. Two were women and one was another man.

"Lookie, lookie what I got right here, Ronald," said the man holding her arm. His other hand was lightly trailing his fingers on her jaw. "Got us one of them youngling wandering 'round."

Ronald chuckled, drinking his full cup of shine that was resting in his hands. From what she can see, Ronald had extremely red skin and scars on the side of his face. His shirt was buttoned crookedly and had stains from god know what. Florence could had sworn that she could smell everyone's dirty breath even if they were a few feet away. "Prolly' wants to go fuck one of the whores. Small dick and all." The group laughed at his joke.

"Sheila, why don't you show this boy how to fuck?"

"I don't think he could satisfy my needs like you can, Charlie," Sheila purred, sticking her breasts out further. She walked over to his side to give him a sloppy kiss. She grinned, showing some of her rotting teeth.

Charlie slapped her bum and growled, "Damn right he can't." He paused to look over at Ronald's whore and asked, "How 'bout you, Gretchen? Care to show the boy how it's done?" He smirked.

Gretchen pouted and began to play with her curly strand of blonde hair. She was wearing a worn down gray dress. Her face seemed to be thinking hard, contemplating about something. Her blue eyes squinted and she laughed. "That ain't a boy, Charlie. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"What the fuck you goin' on about, bitch," Ronald asked.

She rolled her eyes and said, "This bitch is saying that there's a bitch in mens clothes."

"Ronald, I think you fucked her brains out," Charlie grumbled. "Can't tell a boy apart from a girl."

Sheila suggested, "There's only one way to find out."

Florence tried to shake her from the man's grasp but was too late. Sheila took off the hat that was sitting on her head.

"Would you look at that," Charlie said in wonder, looking down at Florence. "Ugly little slut ain't she? Prolly' was watching us having at it."

"Can't say that I blame her. She don't know how to fuck. She's a damn virgy," Sheila said. Her red hair was up in a messy bun. "It's clear as day. A damn virgy I tell ya'."

"Poor thing probably don't know how to touch herself," Gretchen faked her sympathy. She walked closer to Florence and forcefully grabbed her tanned chin. Gretchen bore her eyes into Florence and then smirked. She brought her reddened lips closer to Florence's ear and said softly, "When you feel something here," she trailed her hands towards Florence's groin area. "And you need to take away your frustrations or trouble, imagine yourself the greatest pleasures a man can give ya'. Then when you begin to feel a warm and fuzzy, use your fingers to-"

Suddenly, Florence head butted the blonde who kneeled towards the ground in pain. She then pivoted her body towards Charlie and punched him in the throat only to then kick him between the legs. He groaned in agony. She took back her hat from the whore. Ronald and Sheila were too drunk to help fight Florence. The only thing Sheila could do was yell angrily, "'M gonna find you! You fucking bitch!"

"You'll regret it when you do!" Ronald roars.

Florence ran and ran. Each time she turned her head, their bodies were getting smaller and smaller in distance. She sprinted about a few minutes straight without stopping. She slowly began to walk to catch her breath. Running her fingers through her dirty hair, Florence sighed. She should have never gone by herself. A stop must be put to her eager stubbornness.

The sound of tires rumbling on the road filled her ears. A familiar green truck was driving on the road. Florence couldn't catch a break in life. She set her hair into the hat. And continued to walk to her home.

Forrest left his last delivery at the brothel. Woman and even some men were trying to catch his eye. His cigar smoke was one of the many smells that the brothel was already familiar with. He knew deep down that most of these people didn't have a choice but to work in this part of town. Money and food was hard to come by, even scarce. He pitied them, but didn't show it.

Howard left upstairs to be with one or two of the whores. Jack stayed behind with Cricket at his family home. It was their damn responsibility to be home before the working day starts or else they would have to deal with an angry Forrest. The barkeeper went to grab the money in the office in which Forrest followed. He gave the money to him and Forrest counted the correct amount. He nodded at the barkeep and left outside.

He was walking towards his truck when he thought that he spotted Rence from afar. The small person was avoiding everyone that tried to holler at him. Forrest began to follow the boy to his destination, in hopes to keep him away from trouble. It was the very least that Forrest could do. Before he could do so, a woman grabbed his arm and tried to sway him into sleeping with her. When he turned around, he lost Rence. He cursed at himself and ignored the woman by taking back his arm and walking towards his truck.

As he drove, Forrest saw a body close by. And he knew the very same moment it was Rence. His slowed down and stopped at a soft screech. He leaned forward to open the door for Rence. The boy looked utterly exhausted and disheveled. Before the boy could argue some bullshit to Forrest, Forrest demanded without hesitation, "Get in the damn truck."

The " _boy_ " got in quietly, shutting the door.

They drove in awkward silence. Forrest asked without looking at Florence's face. "What the hell were you doing walking in the road. There's a brothel not to far from here. Men who are worse than any monster lurk out there."

"Really? I didn't know," Florence quickly lied, looking straight at the road.

"Is that so?" Forrest grumbled, giving a side glance at her. "Then why the hell did I see you walking pass the brothel? Didn't take you for that type of man."

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest. Did that mean that he saw her watching the others? Did that mean that he knew who she really was? "I'm not," Florence dryly replied. "It was in my way to get home."

"It wouldn't be in your way if you would have let Jack take you," Forrest growled. "Pride will take you to your grave."

"Like you don't have any?" Florence shot back. "You have much more than I."

He growled under his breath. "What the hell would your family say? Don't you give a damn about your own safety, Rence?" They were in front of her house. She ignored Forrest and got out of the car. When she looked back to his face, he was still glaring at her.

"And why do you even care?" With that she shut his car door and walked towards the entrance of her home.

The question remained echoing in head with surprise. _Why did he even care?_ Sure, Forrest had people who had his back. Hell, they might have saved his ass a few times and whenever they were about to do some stupid ass decision with their life, it was their damn choice. Not once did Forrest ever gave a shit to what they did.

 _So, why did he care about Rence?_

* * *

When Florence got home, she was thankful that she managed to get there in time. She simply had her dinner and went to bed without any trouble.

Florence took off her clothing and put an oversized cotton shirt and her underwear on. She got under her covers but couldn't sleep. She felt like a child that deserved to be scolded at. Her mother would spanked her if she knew that she talked to someone like Forrest like that. But at the same time, her heart wanted to burst out her chest when she realized that Forrest said her boy name for the first time. Rence. And with the angry looks he gave her, she closed her eyes. It was a good look on him to say the very least. She felt odd admitting it, but she knew it was true.

The young woman could imagine him ripping the clothes off of her body as if it was the easiest think to do. She could feel his hot breath traveling on her skin, trailing towards her large breast. He would rest his face on the valley of her breasts, giving each one a kiss. She could see him massaging them and taking her light brown nipple in his mouth, sucking on it slowly, licking it. God, she could see this all happening. Forrest would take her aroused nipple a bite it, making her whimper for more. Of course her would look at her face to see her reaction. He would smirk and go back to her breast as his hand would trail slowly towards her glistening mound.

Again, Florence stopped her wild imagination. She shook her head and tried to distract herself with something else. Her thoughts went back to what Gretchen did earlier. _She brought her reddened lips closer to Florence's ear and said softly, "When you feel something here," she trailed her hands towards Florence's groin area. "And you need to take away your frustrations or trouble, imagine yourself the greatest pleasures a man can give ya'. Then when you begin to feel a warm and fuzzy, use your fingers to-"_

Use your fingers to what? Florence wanted to feel release. She took off her shirt and set it beside her. She saw that her nipples were already hardened much to her surprise. Her fingers slowly made their way towards her entrance. She paused before entering them into her womanhood. Her other hand was massaging one of her breast, pinching her nipple.

She ran her middle finger through the lips of her vagina, massaging between them. She had her finger enter her opening going in and and out. She caught her whimper when she knew that she was dripping in juices. Florence was panting and began to feel dizzy in pleasure. Trying to refrain herself from crying or moaning out loud, she grabbed her shirt and bit into it.

She ran her finger once more through the lips and began to play with her clit. This is how she would imagine Forrest touches. But, this would be nothing compared to his hands. Her finger was glistening and began to touch her clit in a forward and backward motion. At first she started with soft touches and the pace began to quicken when she knew her release was coming. How did she know? Her pantings and moaning were coming in faster, a scream was ready to come out of her throat. She was whimpering, she never felt anything like this before.

In the meanwhile her finger was massaging her clit, her other hand was squeezing her breast harder. They began to bounce a bit when her back was arching. Her pace became much quicker and her eyes rolled behind their sockets as she screamed out her release into her shirt.

Florence relaxed, still trying to catch her breath.

 _Oh, boy._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 _ **Sweet Home Virginia**_

 **A/N Surprise, Bitches. Ya'll thought you saw the last of me, huh? What could I say…? Sorry, for the long delay? Nope. Got no excuse except for that I didn't have inspiration. And now as you can see I do. I'll continue with this story and when it's done it's gonna be major edited, taking away or adding some stuff and will be made into a new story.**

PULLING the weeds from their roots, Florence's muscles begged for less strain. She shifted towards the other side of her body to lean somewhat on her leg. Her face felt a cool downpour running from her temples to her neck. The sun was warm, shining on the side of her body, and shadowing the ground. Florence lifted her hand towards her forehead in a salute manner, squinting at the waves of dirt that lay on the fields. The grub hoe plowed through the weeds, cultivating the spot for the next set of seeds. Her thoughts scampered boundlessly as she minded her exploration of womanhood since the previous night had happened. Feelings that weren't new came back, but in a different form of play. She finally felt eccentric, radiant and relaxed.

Coughing into her dirt stained sleeve, she decided to put the hoe down. Ernest, and his sons were either cutting firewood or managing their humble business. Ever since the row that happened to their only girl, the brothers casted a glare to anyone who was near her. Small foot prints on the soft dirt were following her movements, leading to her home. Florence's hand reached out to take off her hat, and let her hair fall loose. She sighed delightfully, massaging her sore scalp that had been trapped throughout the whole day. Pieces of dried up leaves hid somewhere along her shirt, blood wandered out of her miniature cuts of her hand. Scars faded on her skin, showing others that she was resilient in her work.

As her bath time went, her wet ears heard the cries of a preacher going on about the word of God and bells beckoning the children of the Lord into his house of worship. Hairs were sleeked back and tucked behind Florence's ears, the smell of soap knifed through the aroma of the bathroom. She felt small and tiny sitting in the middle of the tub, blushing of her lustful thoughts that became of her. Alcide's footsteps creaked heavily and quickly on floor outside of the bathroom. She knew each and every sound of her families footsteps. Her father's footsteps always creaked the wooden floors, but always drawled out slowly. Clarence's steps were always in a hurry as for Clement's were quiet.

The Virginian air was warm and dry, much different from the humid weather of Mississippi when she went fishing there last year. She grew impatient of the summer heat, but was ecstatic to know that it was decaying into Autumn. Water dripped from her bodacious curves when she grabbed her towel, readying herself for a nice early dinner. Looking outside of the old windows, Florence saw the crowds of grey thunder clouds gathering in the heavens. Even though she loved storms, she never liked the uneasy feeling it gave her or her family. She never liked the haunted look that her oldest brother or father had before the first drop fell.

It was known that the Whytes were the ones to make others feel uneasy. But, when something simple as a storm made her family show their anxiety no matter how much they tried to hide it. . . Well, she knew it wasn't good.

Not good at all.

She never knew why though. But, it always came back to her mother. And each time Florence would ask what happened on _that_ day, her father or brothers would shut her off, mumbling about going back to work or to bed. All she knew for sure is that many people were involved in order for her family to move away into some godforsaken place like Franklin County. Old ties were cut and never knotted again, people tried to visit her family, but only to be ignored by her father. Shivers ran through her body just thinking how bad it all was before she was born.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the family. No one dared to make any comments or pull any moves on one another. It was an uneasy peace that had the family huddled close to each other, they tried to ignore any thoughts that reminded them of anything. Florence ate her dinner even though she suddenly didn't feel hungry. She got up from her seat quickly, muttering a hurried goodnight. Then one by one, her brothers too had estranged themselves from their father and towards their rooms. Not a single peep was heard.

The thunderstorm turned the night violent, Florence sinked further into her pillows and pulled up her blankets above her face. The wind picked up, slamming the tree branches against the windows. The thunder sounded like bombs raiding from above and the lightning was blinding as ever. And just as she was finding peace that slowly lidded her eyes shut, she heard a loud scream coming from outside. Florence gasped with a sort of panic, taking off hurriedly to her brother's room.

The home was darker than ever, giving it a graveyard feeling. She banged her fists against her brothers door loudly and his door opened seconds later. When Florence looked up to see Alcide's face, she saw that he wasn't getting any sleep at all. He looked worriedly at his baby sister, and then looked around in alarm.

Florence rambled frantically, "Did-did you hear that, Alcide? I heard a scream outside."

He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and responded with doubt, "It's probably the thunderstorm, Rencia." He shrugged and then turned around to see the window. "It's a lot more violent tonight."

She growled, pointing her small finger at her brother's chest, "You know that's not it, Al." Her body felt hot and nervous. Florence glared, giving a small push at her brother and threatened, "If-if you don't think it's someone who's screaming for help, then I'll go and check myself, Al. You know that if that were me out there, you'd want someone to help me in my time of need."

Alcide sighed at the thought of going outside. "Fine! Fine damn you!" He grabbed his sister by her shoulders and walked her to her room and then pushed her into it. He then pointed at her and then at the floor. "You're staying here. What I say goes, and what Pop says it's law."

She nodded, asking,"What are you gonna do?"

"Wake the rest of them up. I think I heard the scream coming from the barn," He replied.

"I thought you didn't hear the scream, Al," Florence scowled.

"All in the past now, Rencia," Alcide cheekily said, trying to hide contempt under the circumstances they were under. He meandered towards the exit and regarded his sister once more. "Stay. Here." He closed her door tight. And as much as she wanted to go follow them, she couldn't. It wasn't worth an argument in this case.

Florence made a face, trying to look like her older brother. She tried to mimic Alcide's voice, "Stay. Here. Don't do this, don't do that, Rencia." Puffing out her chest, she tried to continue taunting his voice, but then fathomed that no one was in the room. Florence then overheard the vocals of her male family that were talking in the living room. They left a few moments later, determined to find what ever lay out in the woods.

And hour and a half had passed, she finally heard the back entrance open.

She sprinted out of her room and down the stairs. Her eyes were gaping at her dripping brothers and father. Each of them set their guns aside next to some old rickety furniture. "Well?!"

The whole lot of males scrutinized their eyes at Florence. And before one could open their mouths, she all of the sudden came with an assumption. Her hands flew towards her mouth and she began to bite her nails. "There-there was a dead body wasn't it? It was too late to save them," she muttered coldly.

Her father set his large hand on her shoulder. Ernest shook his head and gratefully added, "No, hun. None of that. Just some couple of kids thought'd be fun to be play'n in the dark. Couldn't handle it, I suppose. We've sent them on their merry way."

Florence led out a relieved breath that she didn't realize she was holding. She nodded at them and left to bed.

* * *

"They found a body near town last night," Jack grunted as he set a box of shine in the trunk. His face looked somewhat pained and sweaty when he did so. "Next to the creek by Marin's Saloon." Cricket sat on a half barrel close to them, listening.

Florence tried pull out the next crater and then stopped red faced and asked, "What?" She walked closer to her friend who decided to help her out by carrying the crate that she had trouble with. The young woman rested her body against the frame of the truck waiting for Jack to continue his story.

Cricket had a mason jar filled with water and took a long gulp and passed it on to Jack who took it gratefully. As he sipped the water, he proceeded, "A girl found dead. No one's claimed the body."

Florence grimaced, narrowing her eyes at the sky. "In a hell's place where the devil rules the county. No one ever will." She wiped her hands on her pants, then spitted on the ground. "Isn't this the third one this week?"

"Yeah. Told Bertha that if she seein' anything queer, she gon' have to go the other way and tell me." He shook his head. "I don't want her to be…" He didn't want to say _dead_. "Hurt." Jack craned his neck and saw Forrest exiting with Howard who seemed to be drunk already. Cricket's baby blue eyes followed Jack's direction.

Forrest's sweet Virginian accent drawled out, "Someone else is sellin' their shine—" He glanced down at the opened letters he had in his hands. "Talked to the sheriff who else is sticking their nose where it don' belong." Taking out the cigar from his pocket, Forrest set it into his mouth taking in a long puff. Florence's eyes were mesmerized when she watched him blowing out a ring of smoke from his mouth.

"Sheriff Abshire?" Cricket asked with surprise. Forrest and Howard shook their heads, clenching their jaws remembering last time when they talked to Abshire.

"What kind of shine they sellin'? Ain't no one talk to Ol' Gusler? He built our damn stills outta' copper and he do it for anyone else for the right price," Jack insisted with his arms crossed. "He probably built the stills for them."

Howard also put his input, "Last I heard they be sellin' fancy shine. _Fruit liquor_ everyone's callin' it." His eyes were red and one thing that never changed about him was his slurred speech. "It ain't the other moonshiner's that been here with us in Franklin County. Even they wonderin' who it is."

"Then if people like what they're sellin' why not compete with that?" Florence suggested gruffly. Jack examined Rence with disbelief that his friend actually talked. While Howard looked at her with curiosity and Forrest giving her a small glare. She gulped down her edginess and continued, "Look, everyone knows that more than half of the people here are sick with something. Why not remedy that with moonshine that has sassafras bark, ginseng, or wild cherry bark? Hell, why not mix some with honey and lemon juice and people will use that as cough syrup. Don't have to be a lot that ya'll be makin' just something small to start out with."

Cricket opened and closed his mouth. He quickly admitted, "That might be the most stupidest—" Florence frowned. "—or the most smartest idea yet."

Jack grabbed both Cricket and Florence by their arms, pulling them away from his older brothers. Poor Cricket was limping even more than ever since Jack was dragging him and Florence somewhere more private. They stopped behind the still in their small barn.

The youngest Bondurant brother let go of Florence and barked, "What the hell do you think that you are doin', Rence?! I thought I told you that I didn't want you to be part of of this! When people find out that it's been you making them idea's who do you think they gonna hunt, huh?!"

She sighed, "You guys need ideas. I didn't mean—"

"No, of course you didn't. Listen here, Rence. You ain't about to be dragged down by us, I ain't lettin' you. Once you're involved, they ain't no getting out, you hear me?"

"I've been involved, Jack. Bertha and I, we've been entangled ever since you let us into your lives."

Jack cursed under his breath, kicking a still. He stopped to breath deeply and commented, "Yeah, well. I guess that's my fault ain't it?" He let out a humorless chuckle. "And when things go to hell, what then Rence? I plan on marryin' Bertha, I know I'll protect her, but who'll protect you?"

Florence grumbled, "I don't need no protectin' , Jack."

"How I've see it when you're with your brothers, they'd always be there with you. And that's how it should be. And when you're with us—"

"I'm protectin' myself."

Jack shook his head. "That's the thing, Rence. You already have protection coming from us. Whether you like it or not."

"Meaning, whether you or your brothers like it or not," she corrected.

"Just promise me when the time comes, and I tell you to run. You'll run won't you?" Jack asked. They both seemed to forget that Cricket was observing everything that was happening. "You're stuck like soot under my boot," he laughed quietly. "The younger kid sister that I've never wanted."

Florence groaned, "I don't need another brother, Jack."

He smirked in return, knowing that she didn't really have a choice.

Then tomboy looked outside and back at her friends. "I need to get goin'."

She was exiting the doors as the boys were saying their goodbyes. When Florence was no longer in the barn, Cricket chirped, "Well, that was interestin'."

Jack took of his hat and scratched his sweaty scalp. "Yeah, I suppose it was."

Cricket shook his head, "No, not that. The fact that she even suggested her idea to Forrest an' everyone. She's been riskin' her life."

"Well, they ain't no stoppin' her."

"Like they ain't no stoppin' Forrest." Cricket said lastly. He didn't have the heart or courage to say that maybe Jack will have a sister by law. Since he noticed that Florence looked at Forrest with something that could go further than admiration. It was the same look she had when his cousin Laura looked her husband for the first time.

 **A/n so the information about the fruit liquor and the about the remedy ones were all credit to the information i found online on** **including about gusler. which the information i found there was pretty interesting. and the information about abshire was part of the history of the bondurants found on** **. if you didn't know the movie was based on the true events of their story. buuuuut eh…. obviously my story is not. everything, all the characters not including mine all belong to their origins.**


	9. Note From the Author

**Annnnnd please don't hate me**

 **Guys, this is obviously an authors note. And I'm sure you have some questions on my absence**

 **Will I quit this story? No.**

 **I've been writing other stories out of boredom. Not fanfic, but fiction stories on Wattpad.**

 **Have I been writing more chapters for this story? Yes. And hopefully they're good.**

 **Why was I gone? Again, the lack of inspiration.**

 **And the updates? Hopefully, Once a week, every Sunday night.**

 **I'm trying. Really I am. I'd be disappointed if I didn't finish.**

 **I also wrote a one shot for The Hobbit. Why? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's gonna stay a one shot… Or maybe not…. I just got a lot of writing.**

 **If you guys would like to follow my wattpad account it's no_life16.**

 **Thanks again! And thank you for the support! I know it's been six months and I refuse to let this story go to waste.**

 **-NolifeSR**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 **A Little Party Don't Kill Nobody**

 **A/N I hope ya'll like it. Sorry for the delay. Guys, I just turned 20 yesterday. :( Im so old.** **ugh.**

To say the least, the day started off to an unpleasant morning. An order gone wrong by Jack's mistake, resulting to a very silent and irritated Forrest. But, _that_ was his older brother in general, the youngest Bondurant snorted. His older brother forgot what it meant to relax and to simply enjoy time with his loved ones.

No, Forrest was never this way. He just turned this way the day his mother died. It had gotten worse when Howard left for the war. Since there was no one else to take care of his little brother, Forrest took it upon himself to raise the little whelp. The girls that went running to his arms ran the other way since Forrest no longer took interest in them.

He had a store to take care of, and an eager younger brother.

It wasn't easy when Howard came back. He wasn't the same. The war scarred his mind and body. Sometimes Forrest remembered when he could hear Howard yelling and crying with fear from his nightmares. His oldest brother turned to alcohol to help ease the shadows trying to crawl back into his mind. And he let him.

Jack shook his head from his heavy thinking and slammed the truck's door closed. The cool breeze snuck onto his skin, making him dig his hands further into the pockets of his breeches. He spat out the toothpick from his mouth and sighed.

The aroma of frying eggs danced freely throughout the air and into his nose. His stomach grumbled angrily, preparing to rip him up in retaliation. Without a doubt, Jack knew that Howard was already drunk into a daze and heard his thunderous laughter coming from the distilleries. Leaning against the car, he savored the peace that nature offered him. Jack closed his eyes relishing the cool air with gusto. It was a nice change of temperature from that of the hot and dry weather the Summer placed them with. He almost flinched away when he heard a bee buzzing pass his red ear.

As he opened his eyes, his hand rested on his forehead trying to block out the blinding sun. He thought of the changing weather and how soon enough it would till Winter. Although the Winters were harsh on the small and poor town, Jack, along with Cricket enjoyed the snow thoroughly. He always talked to Bertha about the Winter and how it was his favorite time of year when the snow blanketed the town. For him it always meant that the snow was simply just in the process of being born again. _A caterpillar crawling out of its way from the cocoon and flying away into a new life_ , he thought. The snow would, in time give birth to the blossoming flowers of the Spring.

Forrest stood out on the porch, looking around for Jack and found him reclining on the green truck. The cigar in his mouth would be his third one this morning. He looked both ways before walking down the small set of wooden stairs and straight to his little brother. The sun exposed Jack's light freckles that made him a few years younger. Forrest always thought of Jack as his kid brother, hell he always will.

But, he couldn't help, but notice that Jack was a man now. Although he acted like a boy time from time, but that's what happens when you have grown up the youngest in the family. He raised Jack as best as he could, there was no babying around. He forced Jack to learn how to pick a fight and fight it. He taught his youngest brother to shoot first and ask questions later if the moment was opportune.

No one in his family will be defenseless if he got a say in it. If you make a mistake, learn from it quickly or it'll eat you up like a leech. And in most occasions, even kill you.

Taking the thick cigar out of his mouth, Forrest grunted, "I thought Rence would be coming no more, Jack." He paused and blew out another ring of smoke. "It's dangerous enough for him to be with ya'll wanderin' around doin' God _knows_ what." He nodded at the scene ahead of them. "We don't have much luck with the people that surrounds us."

The younger boy cleared his throat, looking down at the dirt floor. He knew that Forrest was talking about Maggie leaving and almost losing Cricket. "Forres', I don't think you understand—"

His older brother looked sharply at him. Smoke came out of his mouth like a dragon ready to burst. Forrest growled, "I don't think _you_ understand. It is enough that we have ourselves to protect. We don't need another death to guilt up our conscience."

"I don't see why you are being so ornery about this, Forres'. When we protect someone, we do it without anything to holler about. I would think you out of all them people in this Godforsaken world would understand," Jack growled back. "Rence is the best of all of them. If you want to push him out of here, I'm not sure you know what you're askin' for. Loyalty and a good fighter isn't something we find everyday."

Forrest stepped face to face with Jack. Their noses were practically touching each other. "The boy risked his life way too many times, Jack. Didn't we all agree when he was lyin' on his bed, _dyin'_ that he would be better without us in his life?"

Jack pushed him away. "You know damn well he don' need protectin' Forres' _. You_ _know_ damn well that we wouldn't have any trouble protectin' what and who we care about!" He poked his older brother by the chest. "Why you so adamant on Rence not being with us? His father no longer has him on by the chains. He _is_ allowed to be with us."

Forrest glared at his unrelenting brother. He didn't want to divulge that there was something different about Rence. Something more worth protecting.

"It's gonna be your head and your conscience, Jack," Forrest muttered, looking away. "The boy…there's somethin' about him that makes him seem sheltered. He's an easy target—"

Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Rence is anything, _but_ an easy target, Forres'! You know this! You've seen him in action. He is as deadly as they come… He's a _Whyte_ ," He added the last bit quietly.

Forrest wanted to sigh with exasperation. He couldn't get Jack to see the bigger picture. As he was about to open his mouth to say something else. Howard came from the trees that shed its discolored leaves towards the ground. Howard's smile was about to split his face in halves as he jogged to his bothers with his greasy overalls. "Mizz' Benny Joon is having a little festivity in one of the old abandoned barns of the other side of town." He wagged his eyebrows. "Says that we could sell our shine there."

Forrest nodded at Howard's direction and grunted, "When do they want us to do the run?"

"The party is gon' be tonight," The oldest replied. He looked so damn pleased at himself. "Says we're invited."

Forrest nodded again. But a nod that makes it look like he's thinking of something else. He didn't want to be part of the party, but if it was Miss Joon then he _had t_ o go. Lord knows that woman has the anger of fifty women. No one scares him. _Except_ for that woman when she's offended. It was a rare feeling, really. The feeling of fright comes in odd ways. And oddly enough she doesn't pry into his life too much. She was there when his parents were alive. She even helped Forrest time to time.

He owed much to her. His grandparents passed a little after his parents did. Miss Joon was the closest thing he had to a grandmother right now. Forrest never showed his feelings towards her, but Benny knew how much she meant to that boy.

Forrest observed his humble and yet dangerous business. By day it was respectable and by night it was unforgivable. The pale paint was peeling off and he noticed a few cracks on the dusty windows that needed cleaning. Some light brown stains were splattered on some parts of the porch, hell even on the wooden floors inside. Blood wasn't an easy thing to wash off.

He went inside to get back to work. It was the only thing he knew best.

* * *

 _She_ was outside working. It was the only thing _she_ knew best.

Her hands were deep in soapy water, churning her skin into raisins. Florence leaned her messy head towards the corner of her shoulder to disburden the flaccid hair stuck on the side of her face. A huff of tired air puffed out of her freckled rosy cheeks. Clement's begrimed loincloth was currently in her hands being washed of its unhygienic ways.

It's not like she wanted to. She had to argue with her father and brothers not to wash the worse of all brother's clothes. Which happened to be Clement's. Her bemoaning could be heard from the inside of the farm and inside of her home. Her older brothers tried not to let out a snort of any kind. It amused them to no end.

Favorably, in spite of everything, Clement's filthy loins was the last piece of clothing she had to wash before hanging them up to dry. The goosebumps that hid underneath her cool skin shuddered when they felt the algid air. Florence didn't even bother to look at the trees for the past few days, not being able to notice that the leaves were changing color slowly. Her eyes caught the attention of a lonely rake being ready for use when the leaves fall. She couldn't wait to jump into the piles of mismatched leaves.

The bubbles escaped the giant wooden bucket and landed on the grass. Her white blouse was sodden to the very bone. A yawn escaped from her pouty mouth, and her eyes watered a bit from it. Grabbing the wet clothes from the basket, she draped them on the wire line. White pins pinched the clothes down from their corners. Finally, after fifteen minutes, Florence threw out the water from the bucket and grabbed the empty basket to head home.

As she drew near her home, the young brunette heard the soft melodic voice of one of her best friends, Bertha. Florence's dark eyebrows quirked, surprised to hear that Bertha came. It was Sunday and the blonde usually stayed with her family on this day after their time of worship at the church. Entering from the back door, she saw her father chatting up nicely with her friend. She looked around for her brothers only to see them relaxing on the chairs with a sheet of sweat glazing their skins.

A tiny smile snuck on Bertha's light pink lips when she saw Florence opening the wooden back door into the home. Ernest nodded a small farewell as did the brothers except for Alcide, who decided to stay put on his chair. Bertha and Florence met in the middle of the living room. The first thing the girl noticed was her friend's excited face ready to explode into fireworks.

"There's a party happening tonight at Gerdy's old barn," Bertha blurted out. She calmed down a bit to when she saw Florence's confused face. The blonde grabbed her friend by the shoulders and added, "It's across town. And you're coming with me."

Just as Florence was about to decline, Bertha interrupted her, "Florence, didn't you say that you wanted to prove that girls could hold their own?" She gave a look to the brunette. "Besides if that's not the point, then you could slowly show yourself to the world. First at a party, maybe at the market, then who knows? Maybe with Forre—" her mischievous voice was muffled under the the hands of Rencia.

"Mizz' Joon's party?" Asked Alcide, walking behind his younger sister and her friend.

"That'd be the one," Bertha replied with a slight bow.

"We're invited too. Pa ain't goin' though." He looked down at his short sister and frowned at her. "You thinkin' of going to the party, Rencia?"

Just a she was about to shake her head _no_ , Bertha interrupted for her and exclaimed, "Yes! Yes, she's coming!" The girl groaned and glared at Bertha who returned a sheepish face.

"Well, it's final then," Alcide concluded with a clap of his hands. "We're coming too, then." He smirked when he heard his little sister's moan of _why_.

"It's settled, then," Bertha said rather energetically. Both Alcide and Florence's eyes widened when they thought Bertha a girl that was quiet and shy. Boy, were they wrong. It got the young brunette thinking. Out of all the times that Jack's gotten in trouble…was it Bertha who pushed him to his demise? She shook head, Jack had his hands full with this one.

All of sudden, a pair of small pale hands grabbed her tanned ones, leading Florence upstairs to her room. Bertha kept pushing her friend up the stairs, to show her where the dresses were at. "Come on, Rencia! Bring your best dress tonight! We're getting dolled at my home!"

Florence turned out with scared eyes. "What about your parents? What would they say about us going to a party with moonshiners no less?!" she rambled, picking the healed scar on her arm she earned when she was fighting with the Bondurant's a while back.

"First off, they know I'm courtin' Jack. Secondly, they're visiting my pregnant aunt who lives a few counties over. C'mon, hurry! Margaret can help you get ready." A pained look struck Florence's face. _Ah, yes._ Margaret. How could she ever forget about her. She was Bertha's oldest sister who stopped going to church a few years back. She was those attractive women you'd see on the streets of Chicago.

The reason why Margaret never left this county was because of Bertha. She loved her little sister too much to let her go unprotected. Bertha's older sister was a strawberry blonde bombshell that many men pine for. Even Florence's older brothers. The first time Margaret met Florence was when she went to the bakery with Bertha.

To say the least it took hours to get Margaret out of her property. Marge refused to leave Florence without any ounce of makeup on her face. When the young girl rejected Marge's fierce offer to do any work on her face, _well_ she took it wrong. The next thing Florence knew, Marge tackled her body to the floor with tweezers in her hands trying to pull out any unwanted hair on Rencia's brows.

Marge declared that it would be her vow and duty to help Florence even if she didn't want it.

 _No, she didn't want it at all_ , she shivered.

"C'mon, Rencia. It's not going to be that bad!"

* * *

" ** _Oh, this is bad_** ," Marge said with a disapproving face. She took off Florence's cap and her wild hair fell loose. The older girl grabbed the dark brown locks and examined them closely. Making a slight grunt of dissatisfaction, both of her hands snatched Florence's soft jaw and brought it closer to her face. " _Hmph_ , well, you're not a total loss. Luckily I can make a Baby Vamp outta you yet." She pointed at the light green dress that lay on Marge's bed. "At least you have a dress I can work with." Marge poked one of Florence's boobs and snorted, "Hun, you could kill someone with these." The girl sitting scowled in return.

Marge saw her little sister admiring the beautiful V-neck dress. Bertha barely worn dresses that didn't look like a preacher's. But, her friend was worse. Hell, it took her a moment to find out that she wasn't a boy. As the oldest girl of the room left to retrieve some cosmetic supplies, Florence took a good look around Marge's room.

Just like any plain room in Franklin county, her quilt was white as were her pillows. Perhaps it was Bertha's mother or grandmother who made the doily quilt by hand. The designs were intricate. The light brown drawers sat underneath the window sill. A vase that had a crack on the corner of its opening was on the nightside of her bed. Wilting pink roses were withering away in it.

Marge had a simple vanity desk, and chair next to her closet. Florence was currently occupying the small chair. A door slammed open and Marge's face frightened Florence to no end. She wasn't sure if she was going to make this room out alive.

A loud gulp could be heard.

 **9 : 3 0 P . M. ' N**

The fiddle and banjo could be heard from miles out of the barn. The pianist played his giddy tune as the people danced and danced till their feet bled. Folk of all ages lined in front of the Bondurants who took their money and gave them their shine to drink to their heart's content. Throughout the evening from the first customer, their shine had been selling successfully.

Forrest gave a side glance to his younger brother who seemed to laughing with Cricket. But, he could tell that Jack's smile would be bigger if Bertha came. Almost an hour passed before all the shine was sold to its drunken takers. Howard's loud and off tune singing stung his own ears, but no one else noticed. Forrest never drank too much in any occasion, only some.

Women of all color and sizes came to him for a dance which he declined with a polite grumble. He thought the wooden floors would give in, taking everyone else into it's abyss. Everyones feet stomped, some would think that their legs would plow through the wood. Roaring laughter and drunken giggles came from the crowd who danced lustfully with their partners. Some people were outside talking, but most were inside.

Or inside of the horse stables giving into their adulterer nature.

Forrest's cigar sat between his plump rosy lips. He took off his hat and smoothed down his brown hair that defined his face more. Miss Benny came and thanked him for the moonshine. She smiled lovingly to him and raised her hands to touch his sharp cheekbones, saying how much he has grown pass these few years. He nodded silently and she left him to his lonely thoughts.

Forrest's dark green eyes look in another direction for a distraction. His gaze fell at the entrance where he saw Bertha and Margaret come in. His little brother's laugh fell when his eyes saw Bertha in a beautiful simple white dress and her hair in a braid. It's like Jack fell in love again. Margaret winked at Alcide who blushed furiously in return.

The Whytes came in ten minutes ago. Still, Forrest was looking for Rence's dirty cap, in hopes to see catching him. His eyes jump from person to person. Inside he was satisfied that the boy didn't come. Because trouble seems to find the youngest Whyte.

When his gaze found the entrance he had to look twice at who was there.

From afar, Jack saw Forrest taking a double take to see who was at the door. Bertha giggled along with Margaret who was behind them. All Jack's could hear coming from Bertha was, " _It's workin_ '." His arms tightened around his little Minnix Minx. She was more trouble than she's worth. Jack kissed her forehead. But, that's the reason why he loved her so. Both Cricket and himself were curious on how this occurrence was gonna play out.

A drop of sweat fell from Forrest's forehead and down to his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed slowly, watching the girl in the light green dress walk in, avoiding any people. Her eyes stared at the floor when she shyly walked through the crowds of people who stared at this newcomer. Her dark copper hair was curled like one of those women he saw in the movies. The dress hugged her bodacious hips that complimented her body well.

The V-neck showed the deep valley of her generous breasts. The girl had an innocent glow to her and yet her chocolate eyes tell a different story. _Touch me and you die_ , they say. Forrest admired a strong woman who could take care of themselves. Her cheeks were a light peach color, as her lips were a juicy coral. Her small feet that had short white heels walked close to his direction.

If one thing hypnotized him, it would be her large doe like eyes. Her dark long eyelashes fluttered, glaring in different directions. He knew right away Margaret had to do something with her cat-eyed liner that had sharp ends. The combination of both doe and cat was a dangerous one. Something so innocent could target its next victim if provoked.

And yet, there was something so, so similar about her. It's as if he'd seen her everyday for the past few months. The cogs in his brain tried to power up a conclusion—

He couldn't breathe when he saw Rence in her.

Forrest turned around quickly when he heard choking noises coming from the Whyte Family. They all had incredulous looks on their faces. Shine drizzled down on their chins when the saw the brunette who caught the attention of everyone. The middle Bondurant gave a deathly glare at the men who stared at her ample bottom. When they caught his glare they all scattered like headless chickens.

Florence couldn't breathe when she caught Forrest's eyes. He looked so handsome with his hair sleeked back. His cold stare couldn't scare her away. The whole time she was walking she knew that his eyes were set on her. She cowered when she saw the furious faces of her older brothers. Luckily their threatening stances deterred the men away. If she was with a Whyte, they wouldn't dare come close to her.

She snuck behind Margaret and Bertha. Both Jack and Cricket whistled at her new self.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the girl of the hour!" Jack hollered, smiling at one of his best friends. He looked at Margaret and added, "What a mighty job ya' did, Marge."

The strawberry blonde shrugged nonchalantly and looked at her red nails. "It's what happens when you bless more people than the pope, Jackie." Bertha nodded and murmured something like, _it's true_.

Florence saw Marge look at someone and then leaned in to whisper into the younger girl's ear, "He hasn't stopped staring. He's practically staring holes into Jack's head."

The Latina woman turned slowly, trying not to make it obvious she was looking for Forrest's glare. No, he wasn't staring at Jack.

He was staring at her.

She wasn't here for fifteen minutes and already Florence felt like she was being squished. The room was stuffy to begin with and the smell of cigar smoke was all her head could think about. It was worse when her brothers make her want to shrink back into a closet and never come out. Just a few feet away were the barn doors to the back.

Both Jack and Bertha left to dance, Margaret left to talk to Alcide. Florence was gonna ask if Cricket wanted to go outside with her, but he was busy talking to one of his childhood friends. She sighed and decided to go by herself. Once she made it through the large wave of people, Florence found herself outside.

She could hear pleasurable moans coming from the horse stables and from the tall grass in the fields. Air snuck underneath her dress, making her hug herself tighter. Florence stayed on the porch, watching a falling star fled through the night sky. The millions of diamond like stars glimmered the lake and the reflection of her eyes.

The floor behind her creaked and the similar cigar aroma was around her once more. She turned around to see Forrest leaning on the wall next to her. His gaze never left hers. Florence's heart wanted to rip out of her chest.

She ignored him, in hopes of him going away.

Just as she was about to leave, he asked, "I ain't never seen you 'round here before." She stood there quietly. Florence was about to open her mouth until he interrupted her. "You see—" She rolled her eyes. Everyone seemed to be doing that to her. "The Whytes seem to know you. It took me a few minutes, ya' know. Why would they look at you as you were their own?"

She gulped, but didn't say anything.

Forrest walked closer to her and she took a step back. "Then Jack and Cricket were real happy to see ya'. Along with Bertha—" She didn't understand why he was talking so much. He never did. All she ever knew of Forrest was his grunting or grumbling of some sort. His large hand swiftly captured her arm and brought her body _extremely_ close to his.

She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he gave her a look that said, _don't even try_. His other arm hugged her waist and brought her hand his was holding to his sight. Forrest let out a humorless scoff. "I know that scar anywhere."

Florence's body froze against him.

"Goddamn it, Rence," he growled angrily, tightening his hold on her arm. "Or should I even call you that?"

 **A/N HA Guys did you expect that?**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

 **The Fiery Temptress**

 **A/N Okay, guys! Sorry, If I'm a bit late on updating! Holy crap did you guys see Logan?! Or Beauty and the Beast?! AMAZING. Anyways, Making a few changes here and there is not easy if I'm unsatisfied with what I'm gonna post. But, here it is! I don't want to quit on any of ya'll! Enjoy! Please comment your thoughts if you want! And sorry for the short chapter.**

 **Also, thanks to my loyal readers! I know I'm not great at updating, but I want to keep trying! I need to finish this story.**

 **Mia:** **Yes! I will try to update as much as I can! Hopefully, every week!**

 **ozlady80:** **I'm happy that you like Rencia! And thank you for your kind offer of helping me! I will let you know ;) And damn straight. We are curvy.**

 **Fuchsia Grasshopper : I have to say that I'm pretty honored that you're reading my story. Cause you actually wrote one of my favorites of all time '** ** _Horizons_** **'. Your writing is—is… There** ** _isn't_** **words to describe on how beautifully you create your masterpieces. Literally, I'm speechless on how fantastic your stories are. You are an inspiration. Really, you are. And, you're right! This isn't gonna be all cream and peaches, Hun. Shits about to hit the fan. I'm just glad to be back and I'm gonna try to stay that way. Again, thanks for reading my story. (Not as half as good as yours. Cause you are an amazing writer).**

 **HalsGal1231:** **Indeed, he does! But, yet the only question remains. Will he ever let her be with them?**

 **Goldcoastkilos:** **Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Hopefully, this one is way better!**

 **ChibiSpyStuff:** **Yes, and Rencia is also seeing herself more and more as a woman! I just hope I write their interactions the way you guys hope it will come out! And thank you!**

 **Wolviegurl:** **Well, here it is! Enjoy!**

The October skies shamelessly made quite a spectacle of its glittering stars. Like a woman flaunting off her diamond earrings, shimmering under the moonlight. Green eyes had the young girl spellbound to his enchanting and yet mysterious stance. Her tiny hands clutched the fabric of his cashmere cardigan. He couldn't feel how hard she was pinching the skin of his chest when all he could ever think about was the hard beating of his heart.

The dip of her waist suddenly felt suffocated underneath Forrest's strong arms. He hadn't loosened up his arms. If anything, he had tightened them. She felt like a rabbit caught under the trap of a snake. The stupid cigar was attached onto his mouth-watering lips. Florence's eyes followed the small trail of his straight nose and on to his nostrils that flared savagely. If she had all the time in the world, she, without hesitation would count every freckle he had on his face.

As distracted any sane woman would be to Forrest Bondurant, Florence was bewitched by him. She clenched her teeth together painfully when she couldn't think of an answer. Her eyes were still on his broad chest. They were purposefully ignoring his glare. She could tell that he was livid. Forrest had the same type of anger as her father when he is about to explode. Although, it was weird enough to ever think of Forrest feeling any type of emotion. Especially, with her.

Florence blinked slowly and mumbled, "Would you think different of me, Forrest?" Her head turned to see the lit up scene of the party that was through the fogged window. Her brothers danced merrily with jars on shine in their hands. They were elbow to elbow, skipping not caring if the prohibited alcohol was slushing onto their shirts that was already wet with their sweat.

On the old staircase above her dancing brothers, she saw that Alcide finally had the courage to kiss Marge. Giving them their privacy, Florence shut her eyelids and tried not to lean towards the warmth of Forrest's chest. The rustling of the tall green grass hymned to the ears of any listeners. Frogs and crickets serenaded their melodies together again at the lake, unlike the night she was indisposed.

"No," was his honest reply. She finally had the heart to gaze up into his eyes. And to her surprise, she found them sincere and stern. "I always looked at you the same way as I did."

"And, what way did you look at me, Forres' ?"

His thick fingers lightly trailed the side of her jaw and his thumb was _this_ close to messaging her lips. Forrest's warm breath tickled her whole body, making her feel fuzzy inside. A feeling that she knew it made someone act foolish. "Like a fighter." A small grin made way on her face, but diminished when he added, "A harebrained one that is."

The prolonged pause had her seething. Florence poked his chest. Hard. "Excuse me?" She sneered.

He finally let go of her and then put in his two cents, "I don't know where to begin. Let's start here. What the hell were you doin' riskin' your goddamn life for us?"

Florence spluttered, "We-well, why wouldn't I?!"

He shook his head. "You don't ever think do you? Stupid girl."

"Stu-stupid?! Am I honestly hearing this right now?!" Florence pushed him away with all the force she had. "OH, and this is coming from the Great Forrest Bondurant, is it?" Like the mad woman she could be, the girl walked away from him and began to yell at the skies as if it was its fault that they were beginning to argue. "Hey, ya'll my name is Forrest Bondurant and I shoot moonshine outta' my ass!" She screamed sarcastically. "I shoot it out like I shoot the damn words that come outta my mouth!" Her arms flailed madly.

As she was about to run inside of the party, Forrest grabbed her arm and she twirled into his chest once more. He hissed lowly, "What in the hell are you saying, woman?!" The hazel eyed man suddenly sniffed the familiar smell of her breath. He narrowed his eyes and then strangled her arm. "When the hell have you been drinking moonshine?!"

Her flushed cheeks reddened further. "It-it's none of your business."

"I didn't see you drinkin', _Florence_."

"How do you know—"

"I know a lot more than I put out." His eyes were turning into slits.

"I may have drank a bit before getting to the party," she admitted with a slight abashed smile.

"Goddamn, you Florence," He growled. "You need to go home before—"

"Before I what, Forrest?" She mocked back with an innocent look. Taking advantage of his dumbfounded face, Florence untangled herself from his arms and staggered into the crowded party. She heard him growl behind her. She knew that he tried to push the people that were in his way just to follow her. In the moment of distraction, Florence was grabbed by her shoulder and her bottom was being groped by a drunk man.

"How dare you—"

"Ey, sweet pea," The man slurred. "Ain't never seen you hear before."

 _You're not the only one_. His hands squeezed her buttocks even more. "Let me go, you filthy swine!" She roared, surprised at the volume of her voice. By then again, she was drunk. The half cup of shine did not bode well in her body. The people around began to stare at the scene in front of them and the music died out to gawk at them. Clarence was suddenly lifting the man by his collar and looked dead into his eyes.

"You touchin' my little sister, Gill?" He asked calmly. Once the words _'little sister_ ' came out of his mouth, the people around began to whisper frantically in the background. Florence groaned. By tomorrow, everyone in Franklin County will hear of this. So much for slowly getting around.

"I wouldn't be touchin' her if she ain't dressed like a goddamn whore," he slurred back. Everyone stilled when he said that. Just as Clarence was about to punch the blond man, a new voice came from a few feet away from them.

In mid-punch, everyone heard. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, boy."

Alcide looked at the other man. His brown eyes narrowed at the ginger man and his horribly trimmed beard. Looking around, he too saw that a few new men walked from the sides and were smiling maliciously. "Archer. What a surprise to see ya' ugly hide here." He lazily smiled. "Did ya' wife finally left ya' sorry ass?"

"I ain't scared of you, Whyte," Archer said, ignoring Alcide's comment.

Florence's oldest brother's lips thinned grimly. "Well, you should be."

Someone's body snuck behind her. Looking up, she saw Forrest who pulled her behind his body protectively. His hands were inside of his pockets. Which meant one thing. He was fingering his brass knuckles. She saw both Howard and Jack standing with Clement who were ready for a fight.

"Listen, we should not go further than this. No one needs to get hurt—or die," One of Archer's goons suggested, not wanting to possibly die just for the stupid mistake of Gill.

Alcide gave a pointed look. "You should listen to your little friend, Arch."

A few seconds in the conversation, and Forrest no longer felt the smaller body that was supposed to be behind him. He gave sharp turns, trying to look for the body he was protecting earlier. He never felt panic. But, in this very moment he did.

"I ain't backing down from a fight, I ain't a pussy," Archer rumbled.

"Then if you ain't scared of me then you should be scared of someone else," Alcide replied.

Archer laughed loudly as if Alcide told him a joke. "I ain't scared of you or ya' brothers. Or the Bondurants for that matter."

"Oh, good," A feminine voice said behind him. The ginger looked behind him and much to his surprise, he found a girl. "Then you should be scared of me." The next thing he and everyone knew, a jar of shine shattered against his greasy head. The man fell face first on the ground like a dead man.

Everyones eyes flew from the man's body and to a drunk Florence who held some broken pieces of glass on her palm.

Forrest closed his eyes in exasperation and muttered, "Goddamn it, Florence." He saw that her brother's recognized the mischievous look on her face. They all blanched at the same time, and they tried muffle out her yells under their hands and yet… she managed to yell—

"FIGHT!"

Again, all hell broke loose.

 **A/N Poor Florence. She shouldn't drink. I gotta say, this chapter is so not serious like my other ones. I just wanted to write something that was unlike Florence. I needed to show that she is beginning to change even more.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 **Maybe a Little Party** ** _does_** **kill Somebody**

 **A/N Hello, everyone! Hopefully this chapter is little more better than the last. Man, I need to learn how to make my chapters longer**

 **Wolviegurl:** **Luckily, there is more to read. :3 Hope you enjoy!**

 **Mia** **: Hun, I'll try to serve these chapters like a hot meal on a Sunday morning. Hehe, any hoo… Let's see how the awkward Florence and a grumpy Forrest will fall for each other. More like let's see how romantic they can get xD.**

 **Fuchsia Grasshopper** **: Well, I'm just happy your reading this story! And who knows? Maybe both Florence and Forrest will both change. Let's hope without the sake of their stubborn ways.**

Florence's chin went inwardly toward's her neck, creating a double chin. A drunk pout formed on her lips. Like the stories of the West when enemies go against each other on a drawl and shoot battle, her brothers were no different. Nor were the Bondurants. The old lights barely gave light to those of the innocent and the guilty. The only clear thing she was able to see was the burning bud of Forrest's cigar and the cigarettes of the others.

She heard a few creaks coming from up the stairs of the old barn, and there she saw more men coming in quietly. On the molting wooden walls, she saw a few iron pokers that were used to move around firewood in the pit. A whip was hung on the wall. The poor horses of this abandoned farm were surely to have scars because of that. Even some old rusty axes were sitting there.

Amazingly enough, Florence had observed all of this before she lamely yelled out, "FIGHT" in her drunken stupor. A hoard of bodies threw themselves at each other. A few things were heard being broken, either glass or bones. Besides the fact that all hell broke loose, someone threw the intoxicated girl over their shoulder in hopes of taking her to safety. Her small fists were banging on their broad back and the person growled at her, "You _better_ stop that."

The music resumed playing in the background with an upbeat.

Her head lifted up and she growled back with twice the anger, "Or what?!" She pushed herself off of Forrest's shoulder somehow. She barely managed to duck when a knife went flying over her head and striking someone else on their shoulder. Said person screamed in agony. A boy she went to school with had tried to throw his fist to her face. Keyword: _tried_.

The next thing the boy knew, he was slammed onto the ground. His back hit the floor first and she jumped on his body with ease. Florence couldn't stop throwing punches to his face. Her fists began to bleed and her wound kept opening bigger and bigger with each throw. Her palm slammed upward to his nose and she heard a loud crunch. Poor lil' Johnny wasn't recognizable when she was done with him.

Florence left her body and lost her mind. When she looked at her hands she didn't know whether it was her blood or Johnny's. She eerily turned around and her face was masked with rage. She cringed when a light bulb exploded from above and the yellow sparks that blew out from it. Another body threw themselves behind her and Florence flipped _that_ body in front of her. The woman that threw herself groaned when she was hammered onto the floor. She was recognized as the town's harlot, Beth. Her body hit the floor so hard that the aged floors cracked.

Through the crowds of fighting people Florence ducked, punched and slashed. She was walking backwards, not seeing or caring the direction she was headed for. The fight was happening in front of her her, and weirdly enough not from behind. All of sudden, her back touched someone else's _way too_ familiar spine. When her head gave a sharp turn to look up, she saw Forrest already looking at her with agitation.

"And you haven't left because…?" Forrest asked loudly. A war cry was yelled from behind her. A whiz of air passed by Florence's face. It was Forrest's brass knuckled fist slamming into the man's jaw. His tooth shot out of his mouth. A small splatter of blood splat on the side of her face. And the mustached man blacked out, falling towards the barn floors.

Florence grunted when she threw a punch at a man who tried to sneak behind Forrest. "I never back outta a fight." On a spur of a moment, Forrest hastily gripped Florence by her armpits in which she let out a startled yelp. He swung her around and her sturdy leg kicked some faces that were in the way. Once he set her down, all he saw was her disheveled hair and her wide eyes of stupefaction. She stammered, "Di—did you just use me like a goddamn club?" Still unbelieving that Forrest did such an action.

He gave her a look and then tipped his head, uttering huskily, "Yes, Ma'am."

She guffawed in return. "Now if you excuse me—" Florence gave a pointed look at Clarence's giant back. "—I gotta go save my brother." And much to her astonishment, he didn't stop her. Deep down it was because he knew that she felt it was her duty as a family member to save her sibling. Forrest moved aside and watched her carefully.

Seeing someone running past her, Florence grabbed the pistol of a middle aged man who had it stuffed behind his belt. She shrugged, not that he noticed that his gun was gone anyways. Her sight became less and less clear through the night and yet it didn't deter her. Blinking a few times, she shakily pointed the gun at some of the men who surrounded Clarence with knives and guns. One by one, the men were either shot on the shoulder or leg, not doing much damage.

Hell, she almost shot her own brother who yelled with horror, "GOOD GOD, WOMAN—" Florence tuned out his angry screams and she gave a cheeky smile, waving the gun around. A hand clenched around the gun. Already, she knew it was Forrest.

"Give me that," He growled lowly, stuffing the gun underneath his shirt. "Shoulda' never let you shoot the goddamn gun."

Florence scoffed, "Psh, I feel fantastic!" She began to feel dizzy and leaned onto Forrest's chest for support. The room was spinning and her body gave out. Just in time, he caught her. Forrest sighed and rolled his eyes when she lethargically began to pat his cheek. "I think our babies would be purtty—" After letting out a burp that could wake the dead, she fell asleep on his arms.

Howard, Jack and Bertha walked into Forrest carrying Florence bridal style. Her messy brown head laid peacefully against his chest. "Well, that was something," Jack said with high eyebrows.

Both Howard and Bertha snorted. But quickly silenced when Florence let out an unflattering snore. Forrest looked around for the Whyte brothers who seemed to be walking side by side with Marge.

And just as he was about to pass the sleeping girl to them, someone yelled out, "THE FUZZ IS HERE." With that everyone scattered out of the barn and into their cars.

Forrest tightened his arms around Florence and began to run into his truck followed by Jack gripping Bertha's hand and Howard running behind laughing. Even Alcide grabbed Marge's hand and pulled her body towards his truck along with his brothers. Before entering into his truck, Alcide yelled out, "We'll meet you at yours!"

Forrest nodded, agreeing.

Hopefully, they wouldn't be chased down by the cops.

* * *

A ray of sunlight tried to burst through her eyelids. Florence mumbled something under her breath and snuggled further into the warmth. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a blurry figure sitting in front of her. She raised her hand to block out the sunlight that made her squint her eyes. The girl croaked, "Wha—"

"Oh, good. You're awake," Forrest interjected sardonically. "Now this—this would be a good time to talk."


End file.
